


The Biggest Mistake of My Life

by Miko



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-05
Updated: 2005-09-05
Packaged: 2017-10-21 09:48:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/223833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miko/pseuds/Miko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a few days until one of the most important moments of Ohtori's life, and Shishido's not sure he can handle it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Two Days Left

"Kanpai!"

The cheer rang loud in Shishido's ears, and they downed their drinks simultaneously. Shishido wasn't even sure what his was; something with tequila in it, from the way it burned going down, but that was all he knew. Mukahi had started getting creative with the drink orders several rounds ago.

To his right Ohtori was trying hard not to choke on the mouthful of liquor he'd just taken as he snickered at something Mukahi had said. They were all more than a little drunk, but their youngest companion was well and truly smashed. As he should be - it was his party, after all.

Grabbing another shooter from a passing waitress, Shishido just held it for a moment, watching his long-time best friend and doubles partner. _I can't believe he's getting married in just a few days,_ he thought, shaking his head as he downed the new drink. Even after the months of frantic preparation for the wedding, it still didn't feel real. He didn't think it would seem real until after Ohtori walked away down the aisle with his new bride, and maybe not even then.

"Who'd have thought you'd be the first of us to get married, Ohtori?" Jirou said, glomping his taller friend from behind. Ohtori swayed and nearly went over, but Shishido was still sober enough to be able to catch his partner before he and Jirou both fell.

"Trust me, it's kind of shocking to me too, Jirou," Ohtori murmured, still laughing as he leaned against Shishido without seeming to realize what was holding him up. He'd dropped the honourifics years ago, at least - probably a good thing at the moment considering how carefully he was talking to avoid tangling the words.

"You are totally wasted, Choutarou," Shishido informed his partner with a small smirk. Ohtori blinked at him, brown eyes looking almost black in the dim light of the bar.

"Of course I am," the younger man said almost indignantly. "You've all been pouring alcohol into me for hours now. Even Kabaji is getting tipsy, and I don't have as much body mass as he does!"

"Kabaji can handle his alcohol, right Kabaji?" Atobe declared. The responding 'usu' was a little garbled, but he apparently deemed it acceptable for he continued, "And you're supposed to be drunk, Ohtori. It's your stag party. Your traditional last night of freedom and excess."

"Yeah, because our Ohtori is _so_ known for his vices and frequent excesses," Mukahi snarked, grinning at the taller boy. "I mean, c'mon, marriage is practically going to be a death sentence for him! No more late nights, no more drinking, no more women..."

"You're confusing 'Ohtori' with 'Oshitari', Gakuto," Shishido cut him off. He rolled his eyes at the redhead and shifted so his partner was leaning against the table instead of him. Not that he minded having Ohtori plastered against him, even with Jirou in the mix. But the younger man was _heavy_ , and still taller than him by a good half a foot.

"It will be a very long time before I'm willing to tie myself down," Oshitari confirmed, smirking at them both. "Though I must admit, I expected Atobe to be the first of us to head down the aisle. Duty to produce an heir to the fortune and all that."

"There will be plenty of time for that after I win a few more titles," the tennis pro replied loftily. "After all, it will take me quite a while to sort through all of my adoring fans to find the one woman who could possibly measure up to my wonderful self."

"Some things never change," Ohtori snickered, laughing hard enough to almost jostle Jirou right off of him. At least their resident narcoleptic was awake for once, too excited by the party to fall asleep.

"And that sounds like another toast to me," Atobe declared, summoning a waitress with an imperious snap of his fingers.

"Oh, not another one," Ohtori complained, but he reached for one of the shot glasses. He'd turned out to be a rather happy and compliant drunk, something that made Shishido wish he'd gotten his partner drunk more often. But Ohtori wasn't much for alcohol, tonight being the exception that proved the rule.

Once they all had their new glasses, Atobe lifted his high. "To things that never change, even in the face of one of the greatest changes in life. Kanpai!"

"Kanpai!" they all echoed, and down went yet another shot. Shishido set his empty glass aside and settled into one of the barstools. Mukahi and Jirou were now coaxing Ohtori out onto the dance floor, and he didn't want to be dragged into it. He couldn't take his eyes off his partner; Ohtori was laughing and staggering, but clearly having the time of his life.

In true bachelor party style, they'd done their level best to humiliate their youngest friend all day. They'd dressed him up in the most ridiculous get-up Shishido had ever seen, then dragged him out to play tennis on the street courts. It had been a hell of a spectacle, but Ohtori had held his own and taken the good-natured teasing as it was meant.

It was actually Ohtori's second stag party; the first had been thrown by his friends among the law students and university tennis team last weekend. There'd been quite a few more people, but Shishido and Jirou had been the only members of the former Hyoutei team that could make that party. The others still hadn't flown in for the wedding yet, since they were coming from all over the place. Hiyoshi wouldn't even be here until the morning of the big day.

When he'd realized they'd missed the party, Mukahi had insisted on throwing another just for the group of them. Ohtori had complained that it wasn't fair of them to put him through that kind of embarrassment twice, but had gone along with it when Mukahi had pouted at him.

"Hey Ohtori, how come I don't get to be in the wedding party?" Mukahi was demanding now. Alcohol made _him_ petulant, which was setting Shishido's teeth on edge. Or maybe that was just the reminder of the upcoming nuptials; his stomach roiled every time he let himself think about how close the wedding was.

"Because if I'd asked _all_ of you, the wedding would have ended up even more ridiculously huge than it already is," Ohtori explained patiently for at least the fifth time. "And there wouldn't have been enough bridesmaids. So I asked Atobe because he was the captain, and Shishido because, well... of course he's going to be my best man."

 _Of course I am,_ Shishido mocked himself silently, watching them dance as he nursed a larger version of whatever had been in that earlier tequila shot. Ohtori's 'dancing' was more of a drunken stumble, but then at this point Mukahi was only marginally more coordinated. He hadn't drunk as much as Ohtori, but he also had a lot less mass. Shishido's eyes tracked Ohtori unfailingly, watching every move his partner made like it might be his last chance to ever see the younger man.

He felt like it would be. In just a few days he was going to stand beside Ohtori and give him away to his new bride... and destroy his own heart in the process. He'd thought he could handle it, really he had. It wasn't like he hadn't known this day was coming eventually, and he'd thought he'd resigned himself to it. But the reality of it was hitting him in the face much sooner than he'd ever expected, and it was hurting a lot more to let go than he'd thought it would.

Shishido had been in love with his partner pretty much from the moment Ohtori had rejoined him on the courts in high school. Maybe even before that. He still remembered the moment he'd seen that tall head of silver over the rest of the crowd of freshman, remembered the joyful smile Ohtori had given him when he'd spotted Shishido in turn.

They'd been nearly inseparable from that moment on, just as they had been in junior high. Except unlike the innocence of their friendship then, Shishido had found himself drawn to his friend and partner in ways that were highly inappropriate.

He'd fought it down and shoved it away until he could mostly ignore it. He'd been unwilling to destroy the most important thing in his life for the sake of his hormones. Sometimes it would sneak up on him; he'd be watching Ohtori laugh at something, or his partner would give him that special smile he seemed to reserve for Shishido alone, and the ache of longing would nearly consume him.

But he'd hidden it for so long and so well that Ohtori had never suspected a thing. So much so, that the younger boy hadn't even hesitated to ask his best friend to stand up for him at his wedding, not having any idea of the torture he was planning to put Shishido through.

The worst of it was, it wasn't even like he'd had any warning. Ohtori had never dated at all, though Shishido had gone through a few girlfriends in an attempt to get over his friend. The younger boy had always laughingly said that between his tennis, his music, his studies, and his close friendship with Shishido, he wasn't willing to give up enough time from any of them to actually go out with anyone.

Maybe if he'd had months of Ohtori dating to get used to the idea of losing him, Shishido would have been more prepared. But what most of the others didn't know was that this wasn't any sort of love match; concerned at their only son's continued solitary nature, Ohtori's parents had arranged an omiai, a contract marriage with the daughter of another lawyer who worked with Ohtori's father.

 _I mean, really, who in this day and age gets into an arranged marriage?_ Shishido took another big gulp of his drink. Oh, it was still more common than a lot of people realized. He'd always sort of expected something like that from Atobe, maybe, who had a huge fortune and family reputation to protect. But not from Ohtori. Not from his sweet, loving Choutarou, the original soft-hearted romantic. How could his friend bear to chain himself to a woman he barely knew? And how could he ask Shishido to help him throw the rest of his life away like that?

"It's what he wants," he reminded himself, scowling into his drink. "He's happy, so you damn well better be happy for him." At least long enough to get through the ceremony. He wouldn't embarrass his partner by breaking down on him and ruining his big day. But after that, he thought it might be a while before he'd be able to spend time with his friend again without it feeling like the pain was going to crush him.

"Talking to yourself?" Ohtori asked as he staggered up and flopped down into the seat next to him. "Not like you not to just speak your mind, Shishido."

"I think I lost my internal monologue somewhere around the last couple toasts," Shishido admitted with a sigh. "Sorry, Choutarou. I seem to be turning into a melancholy drunk tonight. No reason to spoil your fun, you should go dance some more."

"Ugh." Ohtori looked distinctly green at the suggestion. "If I dance any more I'm going to be sick. And I think I've made enough of an idiot of myself for one day."

"I dunno, I thought you looked kinda cute out there," Shishido replied before his internal censors caught up with his mouth. He blushed, grateful it would probably just look like an alcohol flush.

"That's because you're almost as drunk as I am," Ohtori snickered. He crossed his arms on the bar and laid his head down on them, turned so he was still facing Shishido. He looked adorable, sleepy and tousled and sweaty from dancing. It was all Shishido could do to keep from kissing him, right in front of everyone.

He looked away, scowling at his drink again as he fought the surge of desire. His palms were sweating, and he wiped them on his pants as he cursed himself and his wayward hormones. He wasn't a teenager any more, he should have better control over himself than this! He'd certainly had enough practice at denying this particular desire.

The next thing he knew there was a line of warmth along his back as another body pressed up against his. He nearly jumped when Ohtori draped his arms over Shishido's shoulders and rested his chin on the top of Shishido's head. When the hell had the younger man gotten up and staggered across the two feet between them, anyway? "Choutarou?"

"You're cute when you scowl like that," Ohtori informed him, and he could hear the grin in his partner's voice. Shishido swallowed, mouth suddenly dry despite how much he'd drunk. _I will not turn and kiss him, I will NOT turn and..._ "Take me home, please?"

"Take you... what?" For one wild instant, Shishido's muddled brain thought Ohtori was propositioning him. Gods knew he'd fantasized about exactly that often enough. He wondered when he'd passed out and started dreaming.

Then Ohtori shattered the fantasy by clarifying, "I don't think I can even get to the door by myself in this state, let alone home. Take me home, Shishido? If I have any more to drink I'm still going to be drunk at the rehearsal tomorrow night."

"What makes you think I'm any more capable of getting you home than you are?" Shishido asked him wryly, gesturing at his half-finished drink. "I may not be as bombed as you, Choutarou, but I'm not exactly steady on my feet." At least Atobe had stated his intention to pay for cabs for all of them at the outset; he shuddered to think of any of them trying to stagger their way home on public transit in this state.

Leaning over far enough for Shishido to see him, Ohtori gave him that pleading look. The one with the wide brown puppy eyes that, if he only knew it, gave him complete and utter control over his partner. Shishido had never been able to deny the younger man anything when he looked like that, and this was no exception.

"Oh, fine, all right, I'll take you home," he capitulated with ill grace but a touch of humour. "Otherwise we'll probably find you passed out on the floor of the hallway outside your apartment tomorrow morning."

"Probably," Ohtori admitted cheerfully, the pleading look instantly transformed to a brilliant smile when Shishido agreed. Shishido's heart lurched again, then thudded painfully against his ribcage. Damn that smile anyway. A man about to get married shouldn't be smiling like that at anyone but his soon-to-be wife.

"C'mon," Shishido grunted, shoving himself upright and catching Ohtori's arm over his shoulder as he did so. Otherwise the younger man would have gone head over heels, thrown off balance by his inebriation and the sudden movement.

"We're off," he announced to the group at large, and got a chorus of catcalls and booing in response. "Hey guys, seriously. Look at him, he can't even stand on his own any more." Indeed Ohtori was draped over Shishido's shoulder much the way Jirou frequently did to other people when he was mostly asleep. It was comical considering Ohtori was still much taller than he was, but the warm line of athletic body pressed up against him was anything but unpleasant.

"Perhaps it is time to think about calling it a night," Atobe finally overrode the various objections, glancing at his watch. "They'll be closing the bar shortly. There are already cabs waiting outside, Shishido, feel free to make use of them. And make sure you get him home safely."

Shishido couldn't even work up any ire that it was automatically assumed he was taking Ohtori all the way home. He _was_ the younger man's best friend, and what else were best friends for?

"Okay, Choutarou, this way," he said, steering them both towards the door. He had to walk slowly and place each foot carefully to keep from wobbling, but he was still in much better condition than Ohtori. Somehow he managed to get them both outside and into the promised cab, and give the driver Ohtori's address while getting them both buckled in.

To his great consternation, Ohtori shifted in his seat the moment the buckle was fastened, leaning against Shishido and resting his head on the older man's shoulder. His soft silver hair tickled the side of Shishido's face, and despite his best intentions he found himself turning his head to nuzzle into the silky locks.

"Only Atobe would just pay a bunch of cab drivers to sit around and wait for us to come out," Ohtori was snickering, his breath gusting over the sensitive stretch of Shishido's neck and making him shiver. "I mean, really. He just doesn't operate in the same world as the rest of us."

"He never has," Shishido agreed, trying to shift so Ohtori wouldn't be plastered quite so closely against him. It was a futile effort; the younger man apparently took his movement as a sign to move closer. He sighed as Ohtori rubbed his cheek against Shishido's shoulder, for all the world like a cat marking his human.

 _Oh gods, if he had any idea what he was doing to me..._ This time his shifting was an attempt to relieve the pressure against his fly, and he was grateful Ohtori was too far gone to notice something like his partner suddenly popping a boner for no apparent reason.

The ride was mercifully short, as they'd chosen a bar near Ohtori's apartment since he was, after all, the focus of the party. Ohtori spent the whole ride snuggled up against Shishido in a drowsy alcoholic doze, and waking him at the end was rather like trying to get Jirou aware enough to play a match against someone he deemed uninteresting.

Finally, _somehow_ , he managed to get the larger man out of the car and into the apartment building. He was extremely grateful the building had a little-used service elevator, since he sincerely doubted there was any way he could have gotten Ohtori up the four flights of stairs to his level.

They staggered down the hall, Ohtori snickering quietly into Shishido's shoulder at the spectacle they were making, while his long-suffering partner simply did his best to keep them upright. Thankfully he had his own key to Ohtori's apartment; fishing through the younger man's pockets to find his keys would have been just too much for Shishido's self control.

"All right, here you go," he declared as he pushed the door open. "Try not to sleep in through the rehearsal dinner, all right? You ought to have enough time to recover, even considering how late it is."

"You're not coming in?" Ohtori sounded oddly... dismayed. Shishido blinked at him, trying to decipher his expression in the dim light of the hallway. "Shishido... won't you at least help me to the bedroom? Otherwise I think I might end up just collapsing on the couch... or maybe beside it." The flash of whatever-it-was had gone, leaving only sheepish embarrassment in Ohtori's eyes.

Groaning, Shishido leaned his head briefly against the doorjamb and closed his eyes. Ohtori - beautiful, drunk, unthinkingly touchy-feely Ohtori - wanted Shishido to help him to his bedroom. Where he would doubtless immediately begin to strip down, perhaps even asking for Shishido's help in removing the stubborn clothes. It wasn't as if they'd ever thought twice about being nude in each other's presence before, not after so many years of sharing a locker room.

Except Shishido was drunk too, and his self control was already hanging by a thread, frayed away by the looming knowledge of the momentous event that was about to change both their lives forever. "You're trying to kill me," he mumbled into the cool wood of the door frame. "You just like torturing me, that's what it is. You've been spending _way_ too much time with Gakuto tonight."

"Shishido?" He turned just enough to see that Ohtori was giving him another variation on _that_ look; the one that said he was worried and wouldn't his partner please open up and tell him what was wrong? Thankfully Shishido could and had resisted this particular variation, or Ohtori would have found out about his best friend's unfortunate infatuation long ago.

"I'm fine," he said a bit more coherently, pulling away from the wall. "All right, let's get you to bed. No point in bringing you this far and abandoning you."

 _I can do this,_ he told himself as he helped Ohtori in the door and carefully removed both their shoes. _I can take him to bed... no, bad word choice. I can help him to his bedroom and get him tucked in without jumping him or doing anything else to make an idiot of myself. Really I can._

Feeling remarkably virtuous, Shishido got Ohtori into his bedroom and stripped down to his boxers without so much as even allowing his hands to linger. Ohtori was like a living poseable doll, following Shishido's instructions and directions but making no real move to actually do any of the work himself. Instead the younger man watched his partner with that odd look on his face again.

In some ways Ohtori's obvious stupor made it easier for Shishido. His friend was obviously out of it, and it mostly just made Shishido feel sympathetic. Ohtori was going to have a killer hangover tomorrow for the rehearsal and dinner.

On the other hand, the temptation to steal just one kiss was nearly overwhelming. Ohtori was drunk enough that he probably wouldn't even remember it if Shishido did, or at the very least would write it off to a drunken hallucination. Surely one kiss wouldn't hurt anything, and it would be a memory for Shishido to cling to in all the long, lonely years he was going to have to spend watching Ohtori with his wife. Surely that wasn't too much to ask for, in return for the torture he was willingly putting himself through?

Except he wasn't going to take advantage of his drunken partner, gods damn it! He had more pride than that.

"There you go," he said roughly, pulling the covers back enough that Ohtori would be able to easily crawl beneath them. His voice was more unsteady than he'd have liked, but it wasn't like Ohtori was in any state to notice.

He started to straighten, and found himself caught by a strong arm snaking around his neck, holding him still. "Ryou?" Ohtori whispered, and Shishido froze. It was the first time he could ever remember his partner calling him by given name, despite how often Shishido told him he was welcome to do so. Well, the first time outside of his dreams, but that was a separate issue.

"Y-yeah?" Shishido cursed the hesitation in his voice, but he was too startled to control it. He cleared his throat, and continued a little more steadily, "What is it, Choutarou?"

"Ryou, will you do something for me?" Ohtori was making puppy dog eyes at him again, and Shishido groaned internally. Not again. Whatever it was, he just didn't have the fortitude to go through any more tonight. Surely he could say no just this once?

"What is it, Choutarou?" he heard himself repeat. Damn fucking puppy eyes. And the soft, pleading look on his partner's face was making him think things he really shouldn't be. Things that involved the two of them, and other uses for this bed, and speculation as to what else he could do to put that look on the younger man's face...

"Ryou?" This time Ohtori drew it out as if savouring the name, turning it into almost a verbal caress. "Ryou, will you... kiss me? Please?"

Positive that his wayward fantasies were interfering with his hearing, Shishido stared at him blankly. _Do NOT kiss him, that is totally not what he just asked,_ he scolded himself harshly. _You're hearing things._ "I'm sorry, what?"

"Kiss me?" Ohtori demanded more than asked this time, his strong arms drawing Shishido closer as he tilted his face up invitingly. "Please?"

Or maybe he wasn't hearing things. Except there was no way in hell his beautiful, wonderful, frustrating, _straight_ partner would ever ask him that. Shishido couldn't find words to express his utter confusion, and he was wondering if _he'd_ passed out in the cab and just hadn't woken yet. Or maybe everything since that moment when Ohtori had first asked him to take him home had really been a dream after all.

Seeing his shock and apparently misinterpreting it, Ohtori continued somewhat desperately. "Ryou, please. I know I'm asking a lot of you. I just... I just need to know. What it might be like. Before I commit myself to just one woman, for the rest of my life. I need to know. Please, Ryou?"

"Asking a lot of me, huh?" Shishido repeated, his voice gone deep and husky as he fought to hold himself back. He was being given carte blanche to do exactly what he'd been dying to do all night. He and Ohtori were known for thinking in synch, but this was a little ridiculous.

Blushing a little, Ohtori lowered his eyes but didn't release his grip on Shishido's shoulders. "I know you're straight and probably put off by the very thought. But there just isn't anybody else I'd trust to ask this, Ryou. Please?"

At that, Shishido had to laugh. The sound was more than a little bitter, making Ohtori look up at him again in confusion. "You really have no idea what you're asking, do you?" he asked. Amazing. Ohtori was usually so damn perceptive, especially when it came to Shishido. But he had absolutely no clue that he was asking Shishido to torture himself even further with a taste of what he'd never be allowed to have again.

"I'm sorry," Ohtori apologized, seeing Shishido's anger but not understanding the reason for it. "I promise, we can pretend we never had this conversation after tonight. I'll never mention it again, and I certainly won't tell anyone! I just need to know. Please?" He locked eyes with Shishido, and suddenly the older man thought he knew what the expression in those sweet brown eyes was. It was lust, and curiosity, and trepidation and nerves. And it turned Shishido on like nothing ever had before. "Ryou, please?"

"You..." Shishido's voice came out in a growl, and he saw Ohtori's eyes widen. Widen, and darken, flooding with something far too much like helpless desire for Shishido's peace of mind. "You want me to kiss you?" Ohtori nodded, speechless, hanging on to him for dear life. "Is that it? Just kiss you?"

"Y-yes," Ohtori stammered, unable to tear his eyes away from Shishido's face. He was breathing raggedly, but no more so than Shishido himself. "I wouldn't ask any more than that from you, Ryou. I know I'm already presuming far too much on our friendsh..."

Shishido cut him off with a kiss that was almost savage in intensity. Gods help him, but he'd take the opportunity they were giving him, and worry about consequences later. Maybe he was really dreaming anyway. And if not, well... Ohtori had asked for it.

The kiss was brutal and desperate, all of Shishido's years-long frustration poured into it. To his surprise Ohtori didn't pull away in shock, but rather matched him just as fiercely. There was nothing gentle about this kiss, no grace or technique, just raw biting passion, the desire to claim someone so thoroughly the whole world would see your stamp on them. And Ohtori was giving every bit as much as he got.

Without Shishido really being aware of the change, somehow the bruising force of it calmed, turning into passion without the ferocity. Ohtori was clutching at him, or maybe that was Shishido clinging to Ohtori, and somehow they'd both tumbled over onto the bed and Shishido was lying half over his taller friend.

When he realized what was happening Shishido pulled away, as far as Ohtori's clinging arms would let him. "This... this is a fantastically stupid idea," he declared, panting for air and trying to pull farther away. "Choutarou, we shouldn't be doing this."

"Why not?" Ohtori demanded, just as breathless as he was. Shishido moaned as Ohtori snuggled up to him, mouth trailing over Shishido's neck since the older man wouldn't let him kiss him again. "It's my stag party, remember? My last night of freedom. I'm supposed to be wild tonight, before I have to settle down. So why shouldn't I? We? Ryou..."

"Oh gods, stop calling me that," Shishido pleaded, his voice breaking. _It's already going to break my heart when you walk down the aisle, Choutarou. Are you trying to shatter my soul, too?_

"I thought you wanted me to call you that?" Ohtori asked, sounding a bit hurt. Not so hurt that he stopped nuzzling Shishido's throat, though, and it was rapidly driving the older man beyond the bounds of tolerance. "If you really want to go, Ryou, just say so and I'll let go. But it didn't seem like you were that upset at kissing me."

"Choutarou..." the name came out as a strangled gasp as Ohtori nipped at his Adam's apple, and Shishido shuddered. His arms tightened around the younger man, pulling him closer despite his admonitions to himself to push him away. "Choutarou, you're killing me. This is such a bad idea."

Seeming emboldened by the way Shishido was holding him close, Ohtori practically purred at him. "Kiss me again, Ryou. Kiss me until you stop thinking about what a bad idea it is. Wild, remember? I want to enjoy this."

He had absolutely no idea why Ohtori was doing this. Simple curiosity maybe, like he'd said. Just the realization hitting home that tonight was the last night he could act out and not feel guilty afterwards.

It was a mistake, he _knew_ it was a mistake. He did it anyway. If this was the only piece of his partner that he would be allowed to have, he'd take it and treasure it till the end of his days.

"Gods help us both," Shishido breathed, and pulled back enough to allow him to capture Ohtori's lips in another searing kiss. He was lost, drowning in the desire he'd carried for so long. He'd wanted this, wanted it so bad he'd dreamed of it every damn night, fantasized about it almost every moment he was with his partner, and a lot of moments when he wasn't.

Moaning, Ohtori rubbed up against him, the skin of his bare chest rasping against Shishido's shirt. He was still only half over the taller man, so their hips didn't brush together. That was probably a good thing, since Shishido had pretty much already lost all traces of restraint. The only thing now holding him back from completely ravaging his partner was a deep-seated desire not to hurt the younger man.

"Choutarou..." the word was almost dragged out of him, and he wasn't sure if it was a plea or a curse. Ohtori writhing beneath him was driving him mad, even more than watching him on the dance floor had done. He realized his hands were trailing over the strong muscles in his partner's back, tracing the contours with fingers calloused from years of tennis.

"Ryou," Ohtori moaned, sounding no less affected than Shishido. His hands were fumbling at the buttons of Shishido's shirt, his usually graceful fingers made clumsy by the alcohol he'd consumed. Frustrated, he tugged on the hem. "You're wearing too many clothes! Take them off."

Who knew his partner had such a willful streak in him? Well, actually, Shishido _had_ known that, better than most. He'd just never really had it turned on him before. Maybe it was more accurate to wonder where this seeming hedonistic tendency had come from. It was as if once he'd gotten over the nervousness of asking for the kiss in the first place and realized Shishido wasn't unwilling, he'd flung caution to the wind and was just immersing himself in it.

Unfortunately, though he was more sober than Ohtori, sheer lust was making Shishido just as uncoordinated. He had no better luck with the buttons, feeling like they'd somehow grown twice as large as their buttonholes. Finally he grabbed the edges of the shirt and just yanked them apart with a growl. Buttons popped off and flew everywhere, and Ohtori was laughing at him, face shining with amusement and lust.

Before Shishido knew what he was doing he was kissing him again, that beautiful smile and husky laugh too much for him to resist. Not that he was doing much in the way of resisting at the moment. Impatient hands shoved his open shirt down over his shoulders, and he was forced to let go of Ohtori long enough to get the shirt over his arms.

Apparently protesting even so brief a separation, Ohtori clung tightly to him. The younger man's hands were everywhere, touching and exploring in a hesitant, almost shy way. It struck Shishido suddenly that, as far as _he_ knew, Ohtori was still a virgin. The thought caused a twinge of guilt somewhere deep inside him; if Ohtori had waited this long, surely he ought to be saving himself for the woman who would be his wife in just a few short days? But he shoved the guilt aside ruthlessly. It was too late to go back now, he didn't think he could stop if his life depended on it.

It did, however, give him the knowledge to slow down just a bit. "Easy, Choutarou," he murmured, pulling back and caressing Ohtori's back again. He could feel the younger man's hands trembling, from nerves he assumed. "I won't hurt you."

"I know you won't Ryou," Ohtori assured him, perfect trust shining in his deep brown eyes. Shishido caught his breath at that look in his partner's eyes. It was much the same look Ohtori gave him when they were about to face a difficult opponent over the net; the one that said he trusted Shishido to have his back, just as he would have Shishido's. But it was more intense, with something else running through it that Shishido was afraid to look at too closely.

To avoid having to think about it, or about anything really, Shishido kissed him again. Tongues rubbed together, flicking lightly and driving each other wild. Hands fumbled at Shishido's belt, and he wasn't even sure whether they were his or Ohtori's or both. Somehow they got the belt off and the pants unzipped, and then they were tangling up as they struggled to get each other's shorts off so they could be completely naked together.

That first touch of skin against skin, with nothing between them at all, made both of them cry out. It was intense, so much more than anything Shishido had ever experienced before. Somehow he'd always known that, as good as sex with other people could be, it would be ten times better with Ohtori. It was a conviction that had driven him to dump them all one by one, searching for something that could even come close.

He'd been wrong, though. It wasn't ten times better; it was a hundred, a thousand times better. Absolutely incomparable, and if he'd been the overemotional type he'd probably have been crying with the knowledge that he was never, ever going to be satisfied with anything less after tasting heaven this once.

"Please," Ohtori was whispering, face screwed up in something that looked almost closer to agony than ecstasy. "Ryou, please." He couldn't seem to summon anything more coherent than that, rubbing and arching against Shishido. His hand was fluttering over the older man's hip, as if he want to move it down to touch but was afraid to overstep his bounds.

So Shishido did it for him, shifting down until their hips were level and cocks straining against each other, wrapping his hand around them both. The callous on his palm from the tennis racquet was rough against the sensitive skin, making him wince. He usually used oil when he did this on his own, but Ohtori was so damn innocent he doubted the younger man would have anything like that handy.

Still, Ohtori had the same callouses he did, so maybe he had hand lotion or something to use. And this really wasn't going to get any further unless they had some sort of lubrication, he'd read enough to know that. "Choutarou..."

Apparently anticipating what he was going to ask with their usual synchronicity, Ohtori gestured vaguely at the nightstand by his bed. "In the drawer," he panted, his hand returning to Shishido's hip and stroking a long line of fire there. Reluctantly Shishido released them and reached over to the drawer, taking pleasure in Ohtori's soft cry of loss. And then gasping when Ohtori's hand finally slid down and took over what Shishido had been doing.

Unable to see a damn thing thanks to the haze of pleasure and alcohol over his eyes, Shishido fumbled in the indicated drawer until he felt something that felt like it might be what he was after. He withdrew the tube and forced his eyes to focus long enough to be sure it wasn't, say, a muscle relaxant of some kind; he'd learned that lesson the hard way.

His eyes widened in shock as he realized that, far from being the tube of hand lotion he'd expected, it was exactly the same brand of lube _he_ preferred. Ohtori laughed at the look on his face. "I may be inexperienced, but I'm not as innocent as you think, Ryou," he murmured, tightening his grip on them and making Shishido gasp again. "Hurry, please! I can't take much more of this."

"You and me both," Shishido muttered, flipping the cap open with a practiced twist of his wrist and squeezing a liberal amount of the cool gel onto his other hand. He didn't wait to let it warm to skin temperature, no less impatient than his partner. They both moaned at the feel of the cool oil as he rubbed it over their cocks and Ohtori's hand, making them both slippery. Suddenly it was much easier to stroke, and he found his fingers tangling with Ohtori's as they both picked up the rhythm.

"Is this what you want, Choutarou?" he panted, muscles tensing as his hips arched up to drive him harder into Ohtori's hand. "Like this? You want me to make you come?"

"Gods," Ohtori shivered, his pupils dilating. Apparently he liked being talked dirty to, Shishido noted. Not that he was sure what he was noting it for, because this was so never going to happen again. He couldn't believe it was happening _now_. "Ryou... no, this isn't what I want," he murmured, closing his eyes and shivering again.

Stung by the sudden apparent change of mind, Shishido went to pull away. Ohtori caught his hand, opening his eyes to give him the single _hottest_ look Shishido had ever received from anyone, male or female. "I want you to fuck me, Ryou," he whispered, licking his lips. Shishido's eyes followed the path of that tongue helplessly, his hand stilling on their cocks as he realized the extent of what Ohtori was asking for. "I want to know what it feels like this way, just once, before I'll never have another chance. Fuck me, Ryou, please? I'll... I'll turn around, and you can even pretend I'm a girl if you need to. You can do that with girls too, right? So it wouldn't be too awful?"

"Choutarou..." Disbelieving, Shishido finally managed to tear his eyes away from that luscious mouth. He trailed his gaze over Ohtori's long, lanky body, taking in the broad shoulders, narrow waist and sleek muscles. He laughed, the sound shaky. "Even from behind, Choutarou, nobody could ever mistake you for a girl."

"You... you can't, then?" Ohtori sounded devastated, the heat in his eyes suddenly replaced by an aching disappointment. "I understand..."

"You don't understand a gods damned thing," Shishido growled, shifting to pin the larger man in place as Ohtori tried to pull away. He released his own cock and made his grip tighter on his partner's, starting to move again in long, torturously slow strokes. Ohtori gasped and writhed beneath him again, eyes falling closed once more as his head tipped back and mouth dropped open, panting for air.

Once again he had reason to curse the difference in height between him and his partner. Shishido wanted to ravage that tempting mouth, but if he wanted to be able to hang on to his partner's cock, the best he could do was nuzzle the bared stretch of throat. The whimper Ohtori made when his teeth closed over the flesh there was plenty satisfying, however. Some last vestige of sanity reminded him not to mark the other boy; somehow he thought the bride wouldn't exactly be pleased to see that on her new husband.

He wanted to, though. Oh gods how he wanted it, to mark his Choutarou so the whole world would know what they'd been up to, would know that Ohtori was _his_. Especially when Ohtori sighed and tipped his head back further, as if in invitation. "You have absolutely no idea what you're messing with," he growled against his partner's throat.

"Oh gods," Ohtori was moaning helplessly. "Please, Ryou. Oh gods please. I can't take much more." His hands were clutching at Shishido's shoulders like he was afraid to let go, and Shishido thought there might be bruises there in the morning. He found he didn't care in the least. Hearing Ohtori beg him like that was just about the biggest turn on of his life.

"You want me inside you, Choutarou?" He wasn't sure if the answering whimper was in response to his question, or the fact that he'd released the younger man's cock to fumble for the lube. He'd dropped it beside them somewhere, and it was hiding in the covers... there it was! "Don't you know enough to be careful what you wish for?"

He wasn't going to last much longer either. He wrenched off the half-open cap and poured the slick oil into his palm. Ohtori gave a choked cry that might almost have been a strangled scream as Shishido dumped the oil onto the base of his cock and his balls. Smoothing it downwards, he found the tight ring of muscle that blocked his entrance to the younger boy's ass.

He'd read enough to know that he should be going slow here, taking his time. He didn't want Ohtori to be hurt, and he'd probably never had anything inside him before. Shishido might not be hung like the proverbial horse, but he wasn't exactly small either. If he didn't stretch his partner he could do real damage.

Except, to his shock and Ohtori's evident pleasure, his probing finger slipped right inside, meeting almost no resistance at all. Even when he added a second, the muscle stretched easily around his fingers. "Choutarou...?"

For the second time that night, Ohtori laughed at Shishido's surprise. "I told you I wasn't as innocent as you thought," he panted, squirming and arching up to try to drive Shishido's fingers deeper. "I was curious, and I tried it on myself, and it felt good so I kept doing it. Haven't you ever?"

Well, yes, he _had_ , but that wasn't the point. His sweet, innocent Choutarou had been sticking his own fingers up his ass on a regular basis? Suddenly the younger boy's desire to try sex that way, just once, made a bit more sense. This was the only opportunity he'd ever had, and of course who else would he trust to ask but his best friend?

Any fantasies he'd been harbouring that this was really some convoluted way for Ohtori to confess his feelings for Shishido evaporated. It really _was_ curiosity, plain and simple. Hell, he hadn't even been aware he _was_ harbouring any fantasies about that until they were shattered. Still, they were far past the point of no return. There was no way he could stop now and stay sane.

Groaning, he slid a third finger inside, and now there was some resistance. Curling his index finger upwards, he searched for the rough spot that should be on the upper wall that would drive Ohtori crazy...

Yeah, just like _that_. He knew he'd found the right place when Ohtori gave another choked scream and bucked against him, thrashing his head from side to side. Forget bruises, Shishido was going to have open _wounds_ on his shoulders from how tight Ohtori was clutching at him. But damn, was it worth it for that look of stunned ecstasy on his partner's face.

"Ryou!" Ohtori's voice broke on the word, the note of desperation in it sending a delicious shudder down Shishido's spine. "Ryou, please, gods, I want _you_ in me! Please, I cant..." his voice caught on a sob, and he tossed his head against the pillow again.

Knowing if he pushed much harder Ohtori was going to come and this would be over before it really started, Shishido relented. "Turn over," he ordered gruffly as he withdrew his fingers. "Up on your hands and knees."

Much as he wanted to see Ohtori's face, to have that shining image to hold with him for the rest of his lonely life, he knew he didn't dare. Not if he ever, _ever_ wanted to be able to face his best friend again without either jumping him or breaking into shameful tears. It would just be too much.

Obediently Ohtori squirmed over onto his stomach and lifted himself up. Somehow he managed to make the movement look graceful instead of awkward, like he was offering himself up to Shishido in supplication.

Shishido nuzzled against his spine, licking his way up from tailbone to neck. Ohtori shivered under him, making those soft whimpering noises that seemed to shoot straight through Shishido's chest. "Patience," Shishido murmured as he nipped at the nape of his partner's neck. As if he himself weren't quivering with the desperate desire to be inside that tempting ass.

"Please," Ohtori moaned again, his head bowed until his silver curls brushed against the dark fabric of his pillows. His arms were shaking; Shishido could feel the trembling all through the younger man's body. He caught a glimpse of one dark eye as he leaned up and pressed himself against that lean body, however - it was gleaming with wickedness as well as lust. He groaned as he realized Ohtori was starting to figure out what effect his begging was having on Shishido. "Ryou, please..."

"Damn you, anyway," Shishido choked out as he positioned himself. The larger head of his cock pressed against and into Ohtori's body, making the younger man rock back against him. "We're both going to regret this."

Then he was inside, sliding all the way into that warm, tight body, and all semblance of coherent thought fled from his mind. All he could think of was how damn _good_ it felt, how when he thrust just _this_ way it made Ohtori scream into the pillow and his body clench around Shishido's cock. How it felt to latch onto the back of Ohtori's neck with lips and teeth, tasting the sweat there. How when he lifted himself away to avoid the temptation to mark the younger boy, the new position drove him even deeper inside and made them both cry out. How Ohtori's hands were fisted in the sheets, his breath sobbing in his lungs as Shishido pounded into him with no mercy.

If Ohtori had wanted it slow and gentle, he'd asked the wrong person. Years and years of frustration were poured into this one act, and Shishido didn't think he could have slowed the brutal pace if his life depended on it. Ohtori didn't seem to be complaining though; far from it, the cries ripped from his throat at each thrust were anything but protests.

"Yesssss..." the word seemed almost torn from Ohtori's throat, as did the ones that followed it. "Oh gods, Ryou, yes! More, please, faster... harder, deeper, it's so good, so much better than I even imagined..." he sobbed again into the pillow. " _Fuck_ me, Ryou!"

Shishido had thought he _was_ fucking him, but he discovered differently as Ohtori's words spurred him to new heights of passion. Who knew Ohtori would be the type to talk dirty during sex? Gods, it was hot as fucking hell, though. "You want it, Choutarou?" he gasped, shaking with the intensity of the sensation pouring through him. "You got it."

They were slamming together hard enough now to shake the whole bed frame. Ohtori arched up into each thrust, crying out in that breathy voice that had the power to drive Shishido absolutely insane. Shishido didn't want to leave his partner hanging, but he didn't think he could hold out much longer, either. "Touch yourself," he ordered in a growl. He'd have done it himself, but if he let go of Ohtori's hips he was afraid he'd fly away into oblivion without the anchor. "Bring yourself off, Choutarou. Let me see you."

To his surprise, on his next thrust he felt the younger man shudder against him, convulsing with pleasure. His inner muscles tightened so hard they nearly pushed Shishido right out of him, and the sudden squeezing was too much for him. With a startled shout, Shishido plunged over the edge of ecstasy, collapsing over Ohtori's back as he emptied himself inside his partner.

Ohtori remained upright beneath his weight for a brief moment, and then his arms gave out as well, sending them both sprawling over the bed. They lay there, panting and trying to collect their energy and, at least in Shishido's case, the scattered remnants of their mind.

"Choutarou?" he finally croaked when he thought he was capable of coherent speech. "Did you really...? But you didn't even touch yourself."

A deep groan from beneath him was his only answer at first. Finally Ohtori seemed to summon the strength to move, and he turned his head so he could look at Shishido over his shoulder. The look of sleepy satiation in his eyes made Shishido's heart skip a beat or two. "Didn't have to," the younger man murmured, his words punctuated by a yawn. "Gods Ryou, that was... gods."

Well, if Ohtori didn't have words for it, neither did Shishido. Nor did he have words to describe the way his heart was aching right now, looking at Ohtori lying there like he'd just gotten everything he'd ever wanted in the world. It was a look he'd dreamed of putting on his partner's face more than once, and now that he was finally seeing it, it was breaking his heart as reality started to set in.

What had he been _thinking_? Granted he had a hard time denying Ohtori at the best of times, but still! Ohtori was getting _married_ in two days, and Shishido had just pounded him into the mattress like there was no tomorrow. He wished there _wasn't_ a tomorrow, that way he wouldn't have to face the consequences of what they'd just done.

Panicking, he shoved himself up on shaking arms and rolled off the younger man, pushing himself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. "Ryou?" Ohtori blinked up at him in confusion at the sudden movement. One strong hand wrapped around Shishido's wrist, holding him there. "Where are you going? Sleep with me, please?"

"I think I just did," Shishido muttered, shock setting in as his brain tried to absorb what he'd just done. He ran his free hand through his hair, wincing as his fingers caught in sweaty snarls.

"Idiot," Ohtori laughed, a sensuous chuckle completely unlike his usual carefree laughter. It made Shishido shudder. "That's not what I meant and you know it. Stay with me?"

"I... need to use the bathroom," Shishido prevaricated. He did, actually, but it was just the first thing that had come to mind.

"Oh, okay," Ohtori yawned and released him, shifting so he was under the blankets and snuggling into his pillow. He was squished over on one side of the bed; Shishido realized after a moment it was so he'd have room to climb in when he came back from the bathroom. His stomach lurched.

Quickly he stood and made his way to the bathroom. He took care of his aching bladder as he tried to gather his thoughts and force them into coherency. What was he going to do now? For Ohtori this had been nothing more than one last, wild experiment before settling down, that much seemed clear. Of course he wanted Shishido to stay - that was just the way Ohtori _was_ , all touchy and cuddly and sentimental.

But there was no way in hell Shishido could face waking up in that bed, to that smile, the next morning. Even if Ohtori wasn't horrified by what he'd done once the alcohol wore off... no, he couldn't. If he let himself have it once, he'd want it forever. He was already ruined for anyone else, but there was no reason to torture himself further.

He especially didn't think he could handle waking up to that soft smile, getting dressed, and going to Ohtori's wedding rehearsal. There was just no way. He'd break down and make an idiot of himself. Ohtori deserved better than that, damn it. He deserved the casual, no-strings sex he'd thought he was getting, not a psychotic stalker best friend.

By the time he'd nerved himself up enough to go back out there and tell Ohtori he needed to go home, a good fifteen minutes had passed. Bemused, Shishido paused in the doorway, staring. Ohtori was fast asleep, one hand tucked under his cheek like a little kid. The other hand was stretched out over the empty half of the bed, like he was reaching for something in his sleep. Little snores were coming from him; caused by the alcohol, Shishido assumed, since he'd never heard his partner snore before.

 _Dead to the world,_ he realized, moving forward to look down at the younger man. He really was adorable when he slept. Well, he was adorable all the time, really. But especially when he slept. _Now what am I supposed to do?_

It struck him all at once. This was his opportunity, his chance to get away from this with some shred of dignity left intact. And most importantly, to end it without Ohtori resenting him for taking advantage of him when he was drunk. Ohtori was so damn drunk it would be a miracle if the younger man remembered anything of the night - especially if Shishido wasn't around to remind him.

If he just... acted like it had never happened, maybe Ohtori would believe it had all been a dream. Shishido would have his one night to remember, without the awkwardness of having to face his best friend knowing they'd slept together. And without Ohtori possibly questioning just _why_ Shishido had been so willing and eager to go through with his request.

Quietly, ignoring the headache that was starting to set in as the alcohol in his own system wore off, he gathered up his clothes and dressed as best he could. There were no buttons left on his shirt, but it was loose enough that if he crossed the ends and tucked them into his pants, it covered most of his chest. It was good enough to get a few streets over to his own building.

He even remembered to gather the fallen buttons, hunting them down where they'd fallen, and to recap the lube and replace it in the drawer where he'd found it. He couldn't do much about the mess they'd made, but it looked like Ohtori had wiped himself down with a shirt before passing out. With any luck he'd think he'd just come home, jerked off, and gone to sleep.

Before he left, Shishido hesitated beside the bed, staring down at his best friend. Ohtori really did look like some kind of earthbound angel when he slept, so sweet and peaceful. Swallowing, Shishido leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on those soft lips.

"Love you, Choutarou," he whispered the words he'd never before dared to say aloud. In his sleep Ohtori shifted and smiled. Shishido watched a moment longer, then turned and headed for the door, leaving his partner - and his heart - behind.


	2. One Day Left

Ohtori woke slowly, savouring the memory of the night before as it returned in bits and pieces. The alcohol made everything hazy, but he remembered enough to know it had been the best night of his entire life.

He hadn't been sure that he would have the courage to go through with it. He'd resigned himself to marrying the girl his parents had picked out for him, really he had. Kirisawa Meiko was a nice girl, soft-spoken and polite. Certainly no worse than any other girl he could have chosen. And since he could never, ever have the one he _really_ wanted, there was no reason not to fulfill his parents' expectations and settle down.

Only, he'd wanted something, one memory at least. The whole night he'd been drinking everything they put in front of him, both in an attempt to work up his courage and in the hopes that Shishido would afterwards write it all off to drunken rambling. He'd wanted so badly to know what his best friend's lips would taste like, but not at the expense of their partnership. Not if it meant Shishido wouldn't be able to face him afterwards.

So he'd figured he'd get drunk, ask for a kiss, and hope Shishido would feel lenient enough to grant his last request as a 'free man'. It was a stupid plan and he _knew_ it, but he just hadn't been able to think of anything else.

He'd never expected that Shishido would not only not object to kissing him, but be so... wow. And just... yeah, wow. Even if his brain had been functioning at one hundred percent capacity, Ohtori didn't think he'd have been able to come up with words to do last night justice. 'Wow' just didn't seem like enough, but there wasn't anything better.

It was everything he'd dreamed of, and more. "Ryou," he murmured hazily, shifting to try to ease the way his body was tingling as he thought about it. And oh gods, how _good_ it felt to finally be able to say that name aloud, and not only in his dreams. For all that Shishido had always encouraged him to be less formal, Ohtori had known there was no way he could call his partner by given name aloud without blushing like crazy. Not when he'd called the older man that through pretty much all of his teenaged fantasies.

Unfortunately, he realized a moment too late that moving might not have been such a wise idea. Nor had drinking all that alcohol. In combination, the two were a complete disaster.

Ohtori's stomach rebelled as the hangover hit him all at once, and he was very nearly sick all over the bed. He didn't even dare mumble an 'excuse me' to his presumably still sleeping partner - opening his mouth would have been an even _worse_ idea. Eyes still mostly glued closed by drunken sleep, he tumbled out of bed and bolted for the bathroom, grateful he knew the apartment well enough to be able to get there without really paying any attention.

It was a good thing neither he nor Shishido were the type to remember to put the toilet seat down when they were done with it - if it had been down Ohtori would have thrown up all over it. Grateful he'd insisted on an apartment with a Western style toilet, Ohtori knelt before it and clung to the bowl, groaning as his stomach emptied itself.

There wasn't much in there; dinner had been a long time ago. And his body kept heaving long after he was only bringing up bile. The pounding of his headache only made it worse, since it was painful enough to be nauseating all by itself.

He half expected to feel cool hands soothing him at some point, or a wet cloth draped over the back of his neck. Ohtori had never before gotten drunk enough to be this ill afterwards, but Shishido had nursed him through more than one case of the flu. Having his partner nearby always made Ohtori feel better, no matter how sick he got.

No footsteps sounded on the tile behind him, though, and the anticipated gentle touch never came. Between bouts of heaving Ohtori vaguely wondered if Shishido was still asleep, or if he were perhaps heaving his own guts out over the kitchen sink. Or the bedroom floor. The older man hadn't drunk as much as he had, but still enough to merit a pretty bad hangover.

Long after he finally managed to stop heaving, he remained curled up on the floor, leaning against the shower door. His legs felt too shaky to hold him up, and he was afraid if he moved too much he'd start throwing up again. He strained his ears, trying to hear some sign of his partner in the apartment, but everything was silent. Surely if Shishido were being sick somewhere, he'd be able to hear it? It was a large apartment by Tokyo standards, but hardly a mansion.

"Ryou?" he croaked, his voice worn away from throwing up. It was hardly loud enough to reach his own ears, let alone outside the room. Grimacing, he tried again, forcing the volume up even though it made his voice crack painfully. "Ryou, are you there? Can you help me please?"

There was no answer, though he tried calling twice more. Panting softly in pain as his headache protested his exertions, Ohtori tried to think. Had Shishido still been in bed with him when he'd bolted? He hadn't felt the older man against him, but it was a reasonably big bed and he knew from past experience Shishido was a restless sleeper. He couldn't remember seeing him in the bed as he fled the room, but he realized after a moment that was mostly due to the fact that his eyes had been still almost closed.

Well, Shishido was a sound sleeper at the best of times, and _not_ a morning person. Maybe he was still asleep - or perhaps 'passed out' would be a better term, considering how much they'd had to drink.

Shaking, he pushed himself carefully to his feet, wincing as abused muscles protested. He'd been kneeling on the cold tiles for far too long, and what parts of his body weren't shaky were locking up. He staggered over to the sink and ran the water cold, splashing it over his face to clean up and hopefully clear his head. After a moment's debate he brushed his teeth as well; morning breath was bad enough, but he was definitely _not_ kissing Shishido good morning after throwing up without brushing his teeth first. For good measure he swallowed a couple of extra-strength painkillers while he was at it.

Still a little unsteady on his feet but feeling about a hundred times better than when he'd entered the bathroom, Ohtori made his way back to the bedroom. He stopped in the doorway in shock, staring at the empty bed. The covers were rumpled where he'd thrown them back in his haste to get out of bed, but there was no sign of his partner. Bewildered, his eyes trailed over the familiar room, searching for some sign of him. Ohtori's clothes from last night were scattered over the floor, but none of Shishido's were among them. There was definitely no sound of the older man out in the main room of the apartment.

 _Maybe... he went to get breakfast?_ Ohtori thought uncertainly, moving forward and sitting on the side of the bed. Glancing at the clock, he winced as he realized how _late_ it was. He was going to have to move fast if he wanted to get to the rehearsal on time.

"That must be it," he decided with a sigh of relief, mingled with regret. "He woke up, I was still passed out, and he had to get home to change for the rehearsal. There's probably a note out in the main room."

Feeling much better, though very disappointed he hadn't gotten to wake up next to his partner, Ohtori smiled. His head was still killing him and he didn't think it would be wise to try to eat anything for the next few hours, but somehow he felt better than he ever had before in his life.

He needed to stop sitting there grinning like an idiot and start getting ready for the rehearsal dinner, though.... gods! Ohtori's eyes widened and suddenly he felt like he might be sick again. He groaned softly and put his head in his hands. The rehearsal - the _wedding_!

There was no way he could go through with it. Somehow, impossibly, Shishido seemed willing to do a great deal more than just kiss him. It hadn't felt like 'You asked for it and I'm just bi enough to indulge you' sex, it had felt very much like 'Dear gods this is so fucking good and why haven't we ever done this before?' sex.

Ohtori didn't intend to give up this newfound miracle any time soon, and that meant he couldn't possibly marry Meiko. He was going to have to call his parents, her, _her_ parents, tell them everything was off. He wasn't relishing the arguments that were going to ensue, that was for sure.

Nor was he looking forward to the explosion that would happen when he told them all _why_ he was backing out at the last minute. He knew his parents had always been a little worried about his inclinations, what with his love of music and playing doubles tennis and the fact that he'd never had a girlfriend. They'd been extremely relieved that he'd agreed to the omiai without a fuss.

But he wasn't going to lie to them or try to make excuses. He'd always been honest by nature, and the thought of trying to hide or outright deny the best thing that had ever happened to him was just inconceivable. His family loved him, they'd eventually come around. He felt bad that it was probably going to strain his father's working relationship with Meiko's father, but that was the price that had to be paid.

If he was fast, he might be able to get the word out before people started leaving for the rehearsal. That meant he needed to get up and look for his phone, which was a bit of a daunting prospect, but he'd _much_ rather do this over the phone than in person in front of everyone.

At the insistence of his former senpai he'd left his cell behind yesterday, so the party wouldn't be interrupted. If someone had _really_ needed to reach him they'd have been able to just call Shishido, who did have his phone on him. Everyone in his family and Meiko's knew Shishido's number as an alternative way to reach Ohtori. That meant he had to try to remember exactly where he'd left it, though. Ohtori grimaced and forced himself to his feet. He was notorious for setting things down in odd places and then not being able to find them later. Shishido somehow always knew exactly where to look to help him, but Shishido wasn't here. And in order to call him to come help, he'd first have to find his phone, which would eliminate the _need_ for help.

 _Now I really wish he'd stayed,_ Ohtori thought as he staggered out into the main room, squinting against the sunlight coming in through the window. Oh, that was bad. Obviously the phone wasn't the only thing he needed to find; he didn't think he'd be able to go outside without his sunglasses.

He searched fruitlessly for a good fifteen minutes. Really, his apartment wasn't that big, _how_ did things manage to find so many places to hide? And it wasn't like he'd deliberately hidden it either, just set it down somewhere. Sometimes Ohtori could swear his belongings really did just pick up and move on their own, to confuse him.

The one thing his search did turn up was the fact that Shishido hadn't left him a note after all. That confused him a little; Shishido could be rough and rude at the best of times, but it wasn't like him to just leave while Ohtori was asleep with no explanation. On the occasions when he'd been crashing here for one reason or another and needed to leave before Ohtori got up, he'd always left a note. Even if Ohtori had known ahead of time that the older man would be gone when he woke.

 _He was probably too hung-over to think about it,_ Ohtori acknowledged ruefully, holding one hand to his own pounding head as he continued to search. _If he feels half as bad as I do, I can hardly blame him for forgetting._

He finally found the phone when it started ringing, the loud noise shattering the still quiet of the apartment and making him wince. He tracked the sound to one of his bookshelves where he'd apparently put the damn thing down on a shelf, half hidden by the books. It was the ring that identified a call from Shishido's phone, and he smiled in relief as he picked it up and answered it. Two birds with one stone.

"Ryou!" he greeted his partner happily, moving back to the bedroom in search of some clothes. After spending all that time searching he was going to have to go to the rehearsal to tell everyone after all, but there was no reason he couldn't do it in jeans.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, like he'd surprised the older man somehow. Then Shishido laughed softly, the sound sending pleasant shivers up Ohtori's spine. "Yo, Choutarou. Finally decided to start calling me that? It's about bloody time. I haven't been your senpai in years."

Blinking, Ohtori paused in the middle of opening his underwear drawer. He'd been calling Shishido that all last night, why would he be surprised to hear it now? Or, well maybe his partner had assumed it was going to be a bedroom name, something he'd only use during intimacy.

Shishido had continued speaking, though. "Listen, you're obviously awake since you answered the phone, but are you up? You're seriously going to be late if you don't leave like right now. I didn't think to set your alarm after I got you to bed, so I figured I'd better check. You were pretty much dead to the world the moment your head touched the pillow."

"Huh?" Ohtori felt like he was really missing something here. "Ryou, when did you leave? Why didn't you leave a note?"

"Why would I have left a note?" Shishido sounded surprised again. "And I wasn't so drunk I couldn't make it back to my own place. Though I was tempted to borrow your couch, I'll admit. But then we'd _both_ have been late today."

Eyes wide and feeling a horrible, panicky fluttering starting in his chest, Ohtori turned and looked at the bed. The bed where Shishido had screwed him silly not so many hours ago. Hadn't he?

The covers were rumpled... but now that he was looking more closely, the other pillow wasn't dented as it should have been if Shishido had slept on it, nor were the sheets on that side of the bed mussed. Disbelieving, Ohtori walked forward and ran his hand over the seemingly unused pillow. There were no stray strands of long, chocolate covered hair clinging to the cotton pillowcase. No sign that Shishido had slept there at all.

"Choutarou? Oi, Choutarou, you still with me?" Shishido's concerned voice was ringing in his ear, but the words didn't quite make sense to him. "Did you pass out again or something?"

"No," Ohtori whispered, but it was more in negation of what the evidence was telling him than an answer to Shishido's question. It _had_ happened. He was sure of it. His body was still aching slightly - granted, _all_ of his body was aching with the after effects of the alcohol, and it was hard to pick out any one small, individual pain among the pounding medley. Shouldn't he be more sore?

Now uncertain of the conviction of his memories, Ohtori looked around wildly for anything that would show that Shishido had been here, that it had really happened. There was nothing: not in the bed, not in the room, not in the rest of the apartment. "What happened after you got me home last night?" he asked, voice rasping in his throat with panic.

"What happened?" Shishido laughed at him. "Don't worry, you're not missing anything. You passed out pretty much the moment I got you into bed, like I said. You didn't say anything embarrassing, if that's what you're worried about."

"I passed out?" Ohtori felt like his body was going numb, his mind shutting down in shock. _But it seemed so real..._ "And you went home? That's all?"

"That's it," Shishido confirmed, and Ohtori could have sworn he _heard_ the sound of his heart shattering. "Now get your ass in gear, you're already going to be late!"

With that the older man hung up, and Ohtori was left listening to the irritating beep of the dial tone. He made no move to close his own phone, in fact he made no move at all. He was frozen, afraid that if he made the slightest move the rest of him would join his heart in millions of tiny pieces.

 _It was just a dream?_ Gods, surely not. He couldn't remember many of the details, but it had felt _so_ real. He'd been so sure when he woke up that Shishido would be there next to him. _But he wasn't. He wasn't here, there's no sign he was here, and he says he wasn't here._

Something warm slid over his cheek and fell onto the hand clenched in his lap. He realized it was a tear when another one joined it, and another from the other side. And then he was crying for real, sobbing so hard he doubled over with the force of it, dropping his still active phone on the floor as he curled up on the bed.

Just a dream, just another fantasy. Made more real by the alcohol, maybe. Just one of a million he'd had over the years, every one about his amazing, beautiful, self-sure partner.

 _Nothing has changed,_ he realized in despair. _From the sounds of it, I didn't even get a chance to ask him for the kiss I wanted so badly. Gods, I should have known it was too good to be true. As if he'd ever have just... seemed like he'd wanted it as badly as I have, for as long as I have, if it had been real. He's still out of my reach, beyond me._

It took a long time for the sobs to stop. He'd never allowed himself to cry over the impossibility of his love for Shishido before, and it seemed like every tear he'd repressed over the years was taking its chance to come out now. He couldn't keep crying forever, though. By the time he trailed off into sniffles and hiccups, he felt worse than he had when he'd first woken up. His headache was so bad his vision was fuzzy at the edges, his throat raw and sore, and his eyes were puffy and probably so bloodshot he'd look like that kid he remembered from Rikkaidai Fuzoku.

 _I need to get up,_ he prodded himself listlessly. _If nothing has changed, then I really do need to go to the rehearsal. My reasons for marrying Meiko still stand; I can't have him, so I might as well make my parents happy since I can't be happy myself._

He was going to be really, really late. His mom was going to be furious with him. He stifled a half-hysterical laugh, wondering if it would make it better or worse if he told her she was lucky he'd shown up at all. Probably worse. A lot worse. Oh gods, he didn't think he could face this.

He didn't have a choice, though. And he was only making it worse with every moment he stayed there. Reluctantly he dragged himself up and set to work making himself presentable.

A hot shower made him feel a little more human, though he didn't dare try to eat anything. Hopefully his stomach wouldn't growl and embarrass him in the middle of the rehearsal. Also hopefully, he'd have settled down enough to be able to keep food down by the time they got to the dinner after the rehearsal.

As he left the building it occurred to him that he probably should have called a cab. It would have been a lot faster than taking the bus. He couldn't quite work himself up to feeling guilty about it, though. Every moment before he got there was a moment for him to collect himself, and to prepare to face Shishido again.

It felt like he was walking in a dream as he got off the bus and approached the small Christian church where the wedding was being held. Christian-style weddings were all the rage in Japan right now, and Meiko had insisted on following fashion in this regard. Ohtori hadn't really cared; whether it was Christian or traditional Japanese didn't matter to him. It wasn't like he was trying to make some kind of lasting, meaningful memory, after all.

To his dismay, but not really to his surprise, Shishido was waiting for him just outside the door. "You are in _so_ much hot water," his partner informed him as he approached. The older man gave him a quick once-over, taking in the sunglasses and pinched expression, as well as the sloppy, hasty air to Ohtori's formal wear. "And you look like shit. I guess we shouldn't have made you drink _quite_ that much last night."

"And you sound so very repentant about it," Ohtori replied dryly, amazed that the words didn't stick in his throat. It was so... normal, this teasing between them. Banter born of nearly a decade of friendship and partnership. He felt like there should have been something different, that Shishido somehow should have felt it too - but why would he? The older man had no idea of the fantasy Ohtori's warped brain had convinced him was real. How could he react to it?

Taking the opportunity his dark glasses afforded him, Ohtori studied the older man closely. "You don't look so good yourself," he noted softly. Shishido had dark circles under his eyes and looked like he hadn't slept in days. There was a pained look in his eyes, and the skin around his lips was tight, pulling the normally sensuous mouth into a thin white line of tension. "Are you okay?"

"You think you're the only one with a hangover today?" Shishido snorted, then winced as the sound probably made the headache he undoubtedly had even worse. "And Atobe, damn his eyes, looks like he just stepped off the cover of a fucking magazine."

"He's Atobe," Ohtori replied, heart aching as the last possibility that the fantasy had been real was shattered before him. He forced his voice to sound light as he followed Shishido into the nave of the church. "What do you expect? Showing signs of a hangover would be less than perfect of him. Besides, unlike us, he was probably smart enough to drink lots of water before passing out."

"Yeah, probably," Shishido acknowledged with a roll of his eyes. "What took you so long, anyway? I tried to call you again, but your phone was busy."

He'd left it still open on the floor of his bedroom, Ohtori realized. Just another sign of how badly scattered he was today. He was saved from having to explain when his mother hurried towards them, however.

"Choutarou!" she scolded, and he winced at her strident tone. "You're late! We've been waiting almost an hour for you. Hurry up and get in there, you're embarrassing all of us."

"I'm sorry mother," he apologized, and he was. There was no reason for his personal problems to have created trouble for everyone else. And what kind of impression must he be making on Meiko's family? They seemed to like him well enough, since they'd agreed to the marriage, but he must seem terribly irresponsible right now.

"C'mon," Shishido said, grabbing his arm and tugging. "And take the glasses off... it's bright as hell in there with all the sun coming through the damned stained glass windows, but I guess it's kinda rude to wear 'em in a church."

In other words, Ohtori thought with a bare trace of humour as he took them off, Shishido had been wearing _his_ and someone, probably Atobe, had lectured him about it.

The church was mostly empty; only the wedding party and immediate relatives had to be there for the rehearsal. They walked up the aisle towards where the minister and Atobe were awaiting them, and Ohtori braced himself. This was it: the beginning of the rest of his life. Today they were only going through the motions, but tomorrow it would be the real thing.

Once he and Shishido took their places and his mother was settled back into the first pew, they started. The music was provided by a little tape recorder the minister held, mostly so the two bridesmaids could get their timing right, and so Meiko could practice that odd little gliding step the bride was supposed to do. They were all dressed in 'formal' clothes, but not what they would be wearing tomorrow; apparently, or so Ohtori had been informed, it was bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her dress before the actual wedding.

Even so, the whole thing felt horribly _final_ to Ohtori. Like a door was closing on him, cutting him off from something important, something precious. He watched the bridesmaids, Meiko's two best friends from high school, walk down the aisle, and suddenly he felt like something was tightening around his neck. It was hard to breathe, harder to think. They were both pretty girls, but they could have been oni for all Ohtori could focus on them in that moment.

When the music changed and Meiko appeared in the doorway on her father's arm, his stomach clenched. She looked radiant, like a bride should, he supposed. He'd half expected her to be annoyed at him for being so late, but of course she was too polite for something like that. She was a proper Japanese girl, and would never think to scold her husband. Certainly not in public.

Every step she took towards them drew the invisible noose tighter around Ohtori's neck. When she got close he turned away and focused on the minister, afraid she would see the panic in his eyes. He caught sight of Shishido from the corner of his eyes, and for some reason his best friend looked nearly as pained as Ohtori felt. Well, it was probably the bright beams of sunlight falling through the windows straight onto them, just as Shishido had said earlier.

The words the minister spoke for the ceremony seemed to go right over Ohtori's head. They'd been translated into Japanese, but they might as well still be in Latin or whatever for all the sense he could make of them. He concentrated on just breathing, in and out in a steady rhythm. _It's not real,_ he reminded the butterflies in his stomach. _It's not real, this is just practice._

A sharp elbow met his ribs, and he gave Shishido a startled look. Rolling his eyes, his partner held out the box that would hold the wedding rings tomorrow. Right now it just held a large place-holder ring, but Ohtori's stomach lurched again at the sight of it. "Pay attention, Choutarou," Shishido whispered.

Shaking his head slightly to try to clear it, he took the ring from the box in trembling hands and turned to his bride. Meiko had handed her rolled up paper cone, signifying the bouquet of fresh flowers she'd have tomorrow, off to the maid of honour. Now she was looking up at him with utter trust in her eyes, waiting for him to play his part.

"Repeat after me," the minister instructed. "I, Ohtori Choutarou, take you, Kirisawa Meiko..."

"I..." Ohtori's voice cracked on the word, and he swallowed hard. "I, Ohtori Choutarou, take you, Kirisawa Meiko..."

"To be my lawfully wedded wife," the minister continued, and paused again.

"To be..." the words stuck in his throat, and Ohtori felt like he couldn't draw breath to save his life. Meiko blinked up at him, obviously confused, and he tried to continue. His heart was in his throat, and his hands were shaking so hard on hers it was no wonder she looked confused. "To b-be my..."

He couldn't do it. Panic overwhelmed him, and he just could not force himself to say the words. "I... excuse me," he blurted out, and bolted.

He was vaguely aware of the panicked and concerned looks on the faces of his friends and family as he passed, heading for a small side door that had an 'exit' sign over it. He hit the bar on the door and burst outside, and was promptly sick over the side railing of the fire stairs he found himself on.

Not that there was anything more in his stomach than there had been when he'd finished throwing up earlier, but his body made a good attempt at it. Bile burned in his chest and throat, and he coughed helplessly as he wretched.

This time however, the half-expected cool hands pushing his hair out of his face and wiping the sweat off his brow with a soft cloth actually made an appearance. He shuddered. There was no way he could face Shishido right now, not in this state. "Ry-Shishido, please leave me alone," he moaned, panting for air in between bouts.

"He's inside," a dry but somewhat sympathetic voice informed him. "Your poor bride fainted, and he's the one who caught her. And was promptly surrounded by every other female in the church, so it fell to me to come after you."

"Atobe," he croaked, glancing back to see the older man standing over him, refolding a monogrammed handkerchief so he could wipe a dry side over Ohtori's forehead again. Somehow Atobe managed to make even this embarrassing situation seem elegant, at least on his part.

"Perhaps we did feed you a bit too much alcohol last night," Atobe admitted, his storm-dark eyes narrowed. There was a wry quirk to his lips, but his voice was soft - perhaps in deference to Ohtori's once again pounding headache. "I told Mukahi that a stag party the night before the rehearsal was not wise, but he was quite insistent."

Grasping gratefully at the offered out, Ohtori gulped back more bile and agreed. "Yeah. Well, it's my fault too for letting you all call so many toasts. I should have known better."

"Do you feel up to continuing?" Atobe asked, raising an eyebrow. Ohtori gagged and was nearly sick again at the very idea, groaning as he leaned over the railing. "I'll take that as a 'no'," Atobe concluded, snorting. "Well, it's not as if it's rocket science, I think you'll be able to manage without having practiced it beforehand."

The thought of having to face this _again_ , for real, was nearly enough to make him burst into tears once more. He ducked his head to hide his distress. "I'm sorry for causing so much trouble," he murmured.

"Would you like me to make your regrets to everyone, then?" Atobe patted his shoulder, then handed him the handkerchief. Ohtori took it and wiped his mouth, his hands still shaking badly enough that he almost lost it over the railing. He wondered what had happened to the practice ring he'd been holding; presumably he'd dropped it when he bolted. "Since it would be rather tacky of you to be sick over the carpet you're going to have to stand on tomorrow..."

"Please," he said gratefully. He really, _really_ did not want to have to face everyone in there. Particularly not Shishido. Or Meiko. Or his mother, or any of Meiko's family, or... well, not anyone.

Atobe pulled out his phone, spoke a few words into it, then put it away again. "I've called my personal driver, he'll take you home," the older man said. "Get some rest, Ohtori-kun," he added not unkindly. "I'm given to understand pre-wedding jitters are rather common, and yours are undoubtedly exacerbated by the hangover. Take your time tonight and just think of all the reasons you're doing this; I'm sure it will help you come to a resolution."

Well, that was an odd way to put it. Ohtori glanced up at him again, and something in his former captain's dark eyes made him wonder just how much Atobe knew about his situation. It wasn't as if he'd confided anything, and before this week he hadn't seen the older man in almost a year. But Atobe always had been uncanny about seeing into people that way.

"Thank you, Atobe," he said, ducking his head in a small bow. He'd have done more, but he was afraid the movement would make him sick again.

"What are friends for?" Atobe asked loftily. "You hardly need to thank me. Now go home, before you end up throwing up on _me_." The last was said with a small grin so Ohtori would know he was kidding, and then Atobe turned and went back inside.

Somehow Ohtori made it down the stairs and out to the front, where Atobe's limo was indeed waiting. He had to smile a bit as he saw it; Atobe had apparently decided to be 'discreet' today, the limo only had four extra doors. He always felt a little strange on the rare occasions he rode with Atobe, and it was even stranger to let the driver hand him into the car now all by himself. But he was mostly just grateful he wouldn't have to try to ride on a bus with his stomach in this state.

Though, as he got further from the church and everything it represented, he found he was feeling less ill, and certainly less like he was about to strangle. It was easier to breath, even though the car was a bit stuffy.

 _I can't do this,_ he thought, anguished. His dream the night before had done more than just break his heart, it had totally destroyed him. If he didn't get his act together, he was going to alienate everyone who cared about him, embarrass his family, and hurt Meiko. The poor girl had done nothing to deserve this from him.

Somehow between now and tomorrow he needed to get his head back on straight. He had to forget about this stupid fantasy before it utterly ruined him. At this rate he'd never be able to face Shishido again, and the absolute _last_ thing he wanted was to lose his friendship with the older man.

When he made it back to his apartment, he locked the door behind him, throwing the second deadbolt so nobody with a key would be able to get in. He made his way to the bedroom, found his phone where it was now beeping angrily at him from the floor, and shut it off entirely. Right now the _last_ thing he needed was well-meaning - or not so well-meaning - friends and family calling to demand to know what was wrong with him.

Stripping down, he crawled into the bed and huddled into his pillow. He did remember to set his alarm clock; he didn't need a repeat of today's late appearance to make everyone just that much angrier at him.

If only he could pull his covers over his head, hide in the room for the next twenty-four hours, and make it all go away. For that matter, if only he could go _back_ twenty-four hours, and change things somehow so that stupid dream wouldn't happen. He'd been... not happy, but certainly not _this_ miserable at the prospect of marriage to Meiko before this.

And the worst part was, he had only himself to blame. The damn fantasy had been entirely a creation of his own mind, however real it had seemed.


	3. The Big Day

It wasn't until the alarm went off that he even realized he'd fallen asleep. He'd been rather certain he wouldn't be able to sleep at all, much less drift off so quickly. Obviously he'd been more tired than he realized. At least he hadn't had another dream like the one the night before.

Groaning, he reached over to turn off the alarm. He had three hours to get ready and get to the church for the wedding. Shoving himself up on the bed, he ran a hand through his rumpled silver hair... and blinked as he realized the unsettled feeling in his stomach was completely gone.

Granted, the hangover had long since worked itself out of his system. He was starving, in fact, since he hadn't eaten anything all day yesterday. But it was more than just that - it felt oddly like a weight had been lifted from him while he slept.

Staring at his reflection in the mirror over the dresser, Ohtori prodded at his own subconscious, trying to figure out what had happened. _Why aren't I panicking any more?_

And slowly, the answer came to him in the form of a certainty, a conviction in his actions, that he'd never had before. _Because I'm probably not going through with it, that's why,_ he realized. The thought should have made him guilty, or at least nervous, but it didn't. He felt strangely calm, and as he kept studying himself in the mirror he realized he was smiling slightly.

"I'm so stupid," he said aloud to himself. Sighing, he laid back down and closed his eyes. The mind worked in mysterious ways. He'd often gone to sleep on a problem, only to wake and find the solution hovering in the back of his mind. Apparently this was no different.

How could he not have realized before this how unfair he was being? To himself, to his family, to Meiko's family, and especially to Meiko. Yesterday when he'd believed Shishido returned his feelings, he'd been ready to call the whole thing off. Did the fact that it had turned out to be a fantasy really change that?

He was gay, and that wasn't going to change any time soon. Or ever. Oh, he liked women well enough to at least be sure he could do his 'duty' by Meiko, but how was that fair to her? He'd been seeing her mostly as an object, a doll-like creature with no feelings of her own. But of course she must have hopes and dreams. Who knew why she was agreeing to this marriage? Maybe her family had pressured her into it. Or maybe she just didn't think she had any better chance of finding someone herself.

But he'd seen enough of her personality to know that she was something of a romantic, with her sweet, shy nature. She probably had all kinds of fantasies about them falling in love, becoming one of those arranged marriages that turned into lasting love. At the very least, she wasn't expecting to be bound to someone who could _never_ truly think of her as anything but a kind of sister, who would always be pining after something - some _one_ \- else.

He had to tell her now, before the wedding. Before they irrevocably tied themselves to each other and it was too late for her to change her mind once she knew the truth.

And who knew? Maybe she'd be okay with it, maybe they'd be able to come to some kind of arrangement. Satisfying both their parents, but with an understanding between them that they'd have the right to pursue their own interests. That wouldn't be so bad, if he couldn't have Shishido. At least he wouldn't be lying.

But he had to call her, right now. Knowing the way women were, she was probably already deep in the middle of getting ready. The longer he put it off, the harder it would be for them to stop the proceedings.

Opening his eyes again, he fairly bounded out of the bed. He felt a million times better about everything, though his heart still ached when he thought about Shishido and what he would never truly have. Well, that was nothing new. He could deal with that. Now, where the hell had he set his phone down _this_ time?

Since he _knew_ it had to be within reach of the bed, his search didn't take nearly as long today. Which was a good thing, since he'd turned it off and therefore there wouldn't be any convenient calls to help him locate it. He finally found it under his bed, just out of easy reach; he'd probably set it on the night table and then knocked it off when reaching out to shut off the alarm.

Kneeling, he squeezed his arm into the small space between the frame and the floor and fished around for it. He grimaced at the feel of all the dust bunnies under there. There were disadvantages to not having a traditional futon, the main two of which were that it was hard to clean, and things always got lost beneath the bed.

Instead of his phone, his fingers closed over a small, round object. Thinking it might be a coin, he dragged it out. No sense in throwing money away, however small the denomination. When he brought it into the light from the bedside table, however, he was surprised to discover it was a button.

He froze, heart stopping. It was just an ordinary dark blue button, a bit of navy thread hanging from its holes. Gods knew he'd lost enough buttons from his own shirts over the years, and more than one of them had evaded his attempts to find where it had rolled to. There were probably half a dozen buttons under there.

Except he didn't own any dark blue shirts - the colour looked _horrid_ on him. And it looked an awful lot like the buttons that had been on Shishido's shirt two nights ago.

Slowly, he shifted from his awkward kneeling position so he was sitting on the floor, back against the bed frame, staring at the innocent button in his palm. At first he thought the ache in his chest was just the usual pain thinking of Shishido and that dream brought on, but then he actually remembered to start breathing again.

"Why?" he whispered, eyes wide and heart pounding frantically. _Why_ would Shishido have lied to him? How could his partner, his _best friend_ , have slept with him, run out, and _lied_ to him about it?

He swallowed hard. Had it not meant as much to Shishido as it had to him? Had it been that _bad_ , that Shishido had felt the need to flee? To pretend it had never happened, so that Ohtori wouldn't ever press him about it?

For a long moment the panic overwhelmed him again, making him tremble as he choked back a sob. His fist clenched around the button hard enough that the edges pressed into his flesh, and he felt a slight trickle of blood.

Before he totally lost it, however, another possibility occurred to him. What if Shishido had just been.... scared? Ohtori had never actually told him how he felt, had in fact been _very_ careful to make sure they'd both be able to write this off afterwards to drunken excess. Shishido had just taken that one step further. Perhaps to protect himself, his pride. Perhaps even to protect their friendship, fearing that having slept together would make things awkward.

Or maybe, _just_ maybe, the impossible really was true and Shishido had done it to protect his own heart. Ohtori had no idea how he could have missed signs of Shishido feeling _that_ way about him for the last ten years... but he was holding in his hand solid proof that, at the very least, Shishido was not nearly as straight as Ohtori had always believed. And if he'd been wrong about that, what else might he have missed?

Scrambling to his feet, Ohtori all but ran for his closet. He had to know, and that meant cornering Shishido in a place where he couldn't run, couldn't dodge the question. And he knew exactly how to do it.

By the time he arrived at the church, wedding guests were already gathering. He paused to greet his parents, bowing slightly to his father and touching his mother's hand gently to reassure her. "I'm sorry for my behaviour yesterday," he apologized sincerely. "It was a very bad day for me all around."

"Are you feeling better, Choutarou?" his mother asked anxiously, catching his hand and staring up into his eyes. They had the same eyes - like milk chocolate mixed with amber, sweet and dark. "Your friend said they'd been too hard on you the night before. What on earth were you thinking, going out that night?"

"I didn't mean to get quite that drunk," Ohtori assured her dryly. "Not an experience I intend to repeat, I can tell you that much. Are Shishido and Atobe here?" He was hoping Shishido wouldn't be; he wanted to face the older man on his terms, and he needed just a little more time.

"Your friend Atobe is here," his father told him. "He's been organizing the seating for the guests who've already arrived. I haven't seen Ryou-kun, however."

"Thanks," Ohtori said, smiling at his father. Internally he winced a bit - if this went the way he rather thought it would, it would probably be a while before his parents were this polite to him again. But it couldn't be helped. "Excuse me please, I have to go get ready."

He bowed again and headed for the room off to the side that had been set aside for the groom and groomsmen. The formal tuxedo Atobe had bought him - he'd insisted that no friend of _his_ was going to get married in clothes worn by half a hundred people before him, and ended up paying for not only the men's tuxes but the bridesmaids' and bride's dresses as well - was waiting for him there, and he hurried to change into it.

Somehow it didn't surprise him to find a man who claimed to be Atobe's personal valet waiting there to help him into it, either. He had to laugh as he allowed the man to help him dress. Any affair involving the charismatic heir to the Atobe fortune inevitably ended up with Atobe's influence all over it. He suspected a good deal of the decorations had been paid for out of his friend's pocketbook as well. Meiko certainly hadn't protested, and her parents had been ecstatic to say the least.

At least it meant he didn't have to wait for Atobe - or worse, Shishido - to show up to help him into his clothes. He thanked the man, checked the corridor to make sure it was empty, and slipped out of the room.

The bride's side of the wedding party had several rooms set aside for them. He could hear the high-pitched chattering and giggling from several feet down the hall, and it made him feel a little bad that he was about to turn the day on its head for them. He knocked briefly, and after a moment of surprised silence there was a shuffle on the other side. The door opened a crack, and one of the girls peered out.

"Ohtori-san!" she exclaimed, and he heard a muffled squeak of dismay behind her. Quickly she moved so that her body blocked the doorway completely, presumably to prevent him from getting a look at the bride. He hid a smile. The action would have been more effective if he hadn't towered head and shoulders over her.

"You can't come in," she scolded him softly. "You mustn't see her before it starts."

"I know, it's bad luck," he agreed. "But I really, _really_ need to talk to her. In private, right now."

"Can't it wait until after the ceremony?" the other bridesmaid asked from where she was standing in front of the bride, hiding her as best she could. "You'll have plenty of private time then."

"No, it really can't wait," he insisted. He looked past her, and saw Meiko peeking out at him past her friend. He caught her eyes. "Please, Meiko-san, it's very important that I speak to you now."

After a moment of whispered discussion with the friend that was shielding her, she nodded. "All right, Ohtori-san, if it's that important. Hana, Risa, will you please leave us alone for a few moments? Go fix your own dresses, it's probably your only chance to do it."

Giggling again and giving him looks that made it clear what _they_ thought he wanted to see her alone for, the two girls scurried off into one of the other rooms and closed the door behind him. He had no doubt they'd be listening at the keyhole, but he intended to keep his voice low enough for them not to be able to overhear it.

Stepping into the room, he closed the door and moved towards her, taking a moment to study her as he went. She really looked radiant in her dress, with her hair up off her face in graceful swirls and artistic makeup turning her face from merely pretty into breathtaking. She looked up at him with slightly uncertain black eyes, the very image of a perfect Japanese bride. "What did you need to speak to me about, Ohtori-san?"

Resting his hip against the side of a nearby table, he cleared his throat. "I, uh, have a confession to make." Although he was certain this was the right thing to do, the words still didn't come easily. "I'd ask you to hear me out, and at the end if you still want to marry me, I'll do it," he promised. "I owe you that much."

Her eyes widened in alarm, and she lifted a gloved hand to cover the little 'o' of surprise that her mouth made. "I don't understand."

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Ohtori braced himself. Hopefully she wouldn't do something awkward like scream or break into hysterical sobbing. "The truth is, I'm gay. I've been in love with Shishido-san for years." Her eyes went impossibly wider, but thankfully she didn't interrupt. "I agreed to this marriage because I wanted to make my parents happy, and I like girls well enough to be able to give you children. But I realized that it wasn't fair of me to ask you to go into this without knowing that there is no way I will ever, ever fall in love with you. And that I will almost certainly end up breaking at least one of my vows to you."

"Are you..." her voice was trembling, but she didn't raise it much past a whisper, matching his quiet tone. "Are the two of you..."

"Not exactly," he admitted wryly. "There was... something happened two days ago that made me realize I couldn't go through with this as things stand. But even if nothing ever happens between him and I, that doesn't change what I am. Can you live with that?"

"I..." Tears filled her eyes, and he did feel bad for being the one to put them there. She really deserved better than this. "I can't. I'm so sorry, Ohtori-san, but I can't. Maybe if it were Hana you were marrying she'd be okay with it - she's always been very forward. But I want a chance for my husband to love me."

"You have nothing to apologize for," he assured her hastily. "This is entirely my fault. I should have been up front with you right from the start. Though, if you'll forgive my saying so," he touched one of her curls gently, "if you want love, an omiai isn't the best way to find it. You're a beautiful girl and you have a wonderful personality, and if I had to be married I'd definitely want it to be to someone like you. You can do better."

She ducked her head. "But everyone will be so angry with me for calling it off," she whispered tearfully. "And if I leave, father will have to pay restitution to your parents."

"Well, then let me be the one to stand you up," he offered. It wasn't a good situation for her no matter what they did, unfortunately; having him leave her would make it seem like she wasn't good enough somehow, and having her leave _him_ would make her seem flighty and irresponsible. And probably get her in a great deal of trouble with her parents.

"Meiko-san," he added when she was obviously torn, "Anyone who would be put off by the fact that I left you for a man is far too shallow to deserve you, anyway. They wouldn't be any better a husband than I would. Maybe worse. You can do better than that. And this way your parents can't be as angry at you." His would be _furious_ with him, but it didn't matter nearly as much to him.

"All right," she agreed, biting her lip. "What should I do?"

"Just stay in here," he told her. "There's something I need to do before I leave, it's very important. I promise I will be the one to walk away, but you might have to stall a little bit until they come give you the 'bad news'. Maybe say your dress got a little torn and you're stitching it, or something."

She nodded and, to his surprise, reached down and slipped the hem of the dress over the heel of her shoe and tugged until the hem came undone. Then she unraveled it further, giving him a watery smile as she did so. "This way it's true, so Hana and Risa can't say anything. You'd better go. Thank you for being honest with me, Ohtori-kun."

"Thank you for being so understanding," he thanked her sincerely in turn. "I promise I'll make it as easy on you as I can. Good luck, Meiko-san. You're going to make someone a stunning bride one day." He smiled at her as she blushed at the compliment, and hurried out of the room.

Only one thing left to do. Reaching into his pocket, he touched the button he'd tucked in there for courage and luck. _I can do this. I just have to get him to be honest._

It was almost time for the ceremony to begin. He and his two groomsmen should be gathering right about now. Sure enough he saw Atobe and Shishido talking just outside the room set aside for their preparations, both already in their own tuxedos.

Ohtori's breath caught briefly at the stunning sight of Shishido in a tux. His hair had grown out again years ago, and he had it swept up in the same high ponytail he used when playing tennis. His long bangs fell to either side of his face, softening the sharp planes there. He was beautiful, though still in a very masculine way. His heart beat a little faster as they turned and caught sight of him.

"Choutarou! There you are!" Shishido scolded him. "I was starting to think you were gonna sleep in again today. I've been trying to call you, but your phone's off."

"It fell under my bed, I couldn't reach it," he admitted sheepishly. That startled his partner into a brief laugh. "I'll fish it out later."

"That's so like you," Shishido shook his head. "I suppose we should be grateful you didn't spend the whole afternoon searching for it."

Studying him, Ohtori was perversely pleased to see that the pinched look he'd had yesterday was even more pronounced today, as were the sleepless circles under his eyes. He looked like _he_ was thinking about being sick - and it made Ohtori's heart soar. There was only one reason he could think of for Shishido to be so desperately stressed right now. The only thing left was to get him to _admit_ it.

"We need to get out there," Ohtori said. "Atobe, can I speak to you for just a moment please? Shishido, you go on ahead."

The look in Shishido's eyes before he turned away was mingled disappointment and relief, and it took Ohtori a moment to realize it was probably in response to the fact that he'd stopped calling him 'Ryou'. _Gods, if I'm right, it must have just about killed him to hear me say that the next morning,_ he thought, his heart going out to his partner all over again. _No wonder he paused before answering me._

"Something wrong?" Atobe asked as Shishido headed into the main part of the church. "You were coming from the bride's side. You didn't try to see your bride before it was time, did you?"

"I did speak to her," Ohtori shrugged. "Now I need to speak to Shishido, in a way that he can't get away from me. Could you just... pretend not to be listening, or something?"

"Aan?" Atobe made an inquiring noise, arching an eyebrow at him. Seeing the determination in Ohtori's eyes, the curious look turned into one of something close to satisfaction. "Good. I was beginning to wonder if I was going to have to put an end to this travesty myself. I believe I'd better go oversee the ushers taking the last guests to their seats. Don't take too long, Ohtori-kun, or you'll find yourself married whether you like it or not."

A little stunned, Ohtori watched him stride away, already snapping his fingers to catch the attention of the ushers. Atobe had _known_? Like, not just guessed, but really known? Well, as he'd remembered yesterday, the older man had always been uncanny at reading people. And he was one of the few people who had seen Ohtori and Shishido's relationship right from the very inception.

Shaking his head, he reminded himself that the clock was ticking. Meiko would only be able to stall for so long. He headed for the main part of the church, where Shishido was waiting at the front for him. Glancing around, he saw his parents up at the front. Jirou was sound asleep on the shoulder of a somewhat irritated Mukahi, while in the row behind them Oshitari seemed to be teasing Hiyoshi about something. Kabaji was just a few seats over from them, with Taki and some of the other former Hyoutei tennis team. Not far from them were his friends from his classes and the university tennis team, plus the rest of his family. He felt a little bad for dragging them all out to this. He'd have to apologize later.

"Where's Atobe?" his partner asked as he got close enough to talk without anyone else overhearing. Shishido looked a little green around the edges, and Ohtori could read his tension in the way his shoulders were a little hunched, his expression forced and his hands clenching and relaxing at his sides. If they'd been going into a game with Shishido in this condition, Ohtori would have feared for their chances of winning.

"Where else? Supervising," Ohtori grinned at him, and Shishido gave him a weak smile in return. He took his place next to his best man, for all the world as if he expected his bride to show up any moment. "We've still got a few minutes, and he won't be late. That would be imperfect of him."

"You seem a lot calmer today," Shishido noted, a flash of something resembling misery passing through his dark blue eyes before he turned to face the front.

"I am," Ohtori agreed with another smile. "I'm making the right decision."

"Good." The word sounded like it had been forced through gritted teeth, and Ohtori could tell from the way the muscles were bunched at the side of his partner's jaw that the older man was clenching it. Shishido took a deep breath, then added in a somewhat more normal tone, "I'm glad you're happy."

Ohtori looked at him for a moment. If he was wrong, this might just be the end of their friendship. If he was right - it might be the end of their friendship, but the beginning of something much, much better.

"Ryou?" Shishido visibly flinched, and Ohtori had to bite down on another smile.

"Yeah?" his partner asked, glancing at him briefly before turning his gaze to his cufflink. Ohtori gripped the button in his pocket tightly, and prayed he was right.

"Was it real?" he asked softly, wanting to be sure nobody but Shishido could hear him.

Startled, Shishido's gaze was jerked back to him as if his head were on strings that Ohtori had just yanked. Wide, almost panicked blue eyes stared into his. "What?"

"You know what I'm talking about," Ohtori asserted, now certain. There was no reason for that reaction unless he was right and it really had happened. Now, if only Shishido's reasons for hiding it were what he hoped they were. "Was it real? You owe me that much, at least."

For a long moment Shishido just stared at him, and he could _see_ his friend trying to find some way out of it. Finally he sighed and looked at his cufflink again. "Yeah, it was real," he admitted gruffly.

"Why did you try to hide it? Why did you lie to me?"

"Are you kidding me?" Shishido's voice was bitter as he gestured slightly at the church around them. "You're about to get married, Choutarou. I never should have done that. Wasn't fair to you or her."

"You regret it, then?" Ohtori pressed. "You think it was a mistake?"

"Hell yeah I think it was a mistake!" Shishido squeezed his eyes shut, pinching at the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have done it, and I probably shouldn't have lied about it once I _did_ do it, but it's done. I'm sorry."

"Ryou?" Again the flinch, as if Ohtori had been yelling instead of almost whispering. "If I weren't about to get married, would it still have been a mistake?"

There was that panicked look again. "What difference does it make?" the older man muttered. "You _are_. End of story. We could play 'what if' till the earth starts going around the moon, it won't change anything." He shook his head. "Look, I won't ever say anything to her, okay? Or even to you again. Forget about it."

"If I weren't getting married, would you still regret it?" Ohtori insisted, gently but firmly. "Answer me, Ryou." Shishido said nothing, staring at the cross over the altar as though it held the answer to the question of life itself. Ohtori's voice turned fierce. "Shishido Ryou, if our friendship has ever meant anything to you, answer the question!"

"Asshole," Shishido all but spat back, barely keeping his voice at a level where Ohtori's parents wouldn't hear them. "You bastard, you're going to make me say it, aren't you? Never pegged you for the sadistic type, Choutarou."

Another person might have been hurt by the words; Ohtori knew his partner too well to react to the lashing out that always happened when Shishido had to admit to a vulnerability of any kind. "Answer me, Ryou. Would you still regret it if I weren't about to get married?"

"No, damn you." Shishido sounded broken, and Ohtori's heart ached for him. He wished there had been an easier way to do this, but there hadn't been time. He'd needed to get Shishido in a place where he couldn't just stalk off to break the conversation, and if he'd waited until after announcing that the wedding was off Shishido would have blamed himself for Ohtori calling it off. "No, I wouldn't regret it. I'd be down on my knees praying it wasn't a one-time thing, but I wouldn't regret it. Happy now?"

"Very," Ohtori murmured back, voice full of barely repressed joy. Shishido gave him a disbelieving look, probably wondering how his good-natured partner could possibly be taking pleasure in his obvious anguish, and Ohtori grinned back at him. "It makes this much easier to do."

"Knowing I'm in love with you and miserable makes it _easier_ for you to get married?" Shishido sputtered, his voice starting to rise. Ohtori's parents were giving them sideways looks, and he thought he could see dawning horror in his mother's eyes. She'd always been more perceptive than his father. He gave her an apologetic smile.

"No," he told his partner. Before Shishido could evade him, he caught the shorter man's chin in his fingers and kissed him, quickly but deeply. Stunned, Shishido just stared at him when he let go. Behind them, there was the sort of shocked silence that follows a disaster too horrific for the crowd to imagine. Smiling into it, Ohtori told him, "It makes it easier to do _this_."

With that he turned and calmly walked away, ignoring the uproar that broke out throughout the church. He could hear his father calling after him, his mother making panicked excuses to the accusations Meiko's parents were flinging at them. Still smiling happily, Ohtori walked back down the aisle, not turning to either side, and out the doors into the nave. He wasn't sure if Shishido were following him or not; it didn't really matter. Either way, he'd done what he needed to do. Shishido would catch up with him sooner or later, demanding answers.

Sure enough, he'd hardly taken two steps towards the main church exit before the doors slammed open behind him again, and he heard familiar running footsteps. Even in dress shoes, he couldn't mistake that gait anywhere. He'd heard it too many times on the courts. He turned at the hand on his arm, and smiled again at the wild expression on his partner's face.

"Choutarou! Damn it, you can't just walk away from your own wedding!" the older man insisted.

"Watch me," Ohtori replied serenely. "Anyway, I promised Meiko I would be the one to leave her at the alter so her parents couldn't be as mad at her, and she probably wouldn't have been able to stall much longer."

Clearly struck speechless, Shishido just gaped at him, hand still on his arm. Ohtori was severely tempted to lean over and kiss the confusion out of his eyes, but he restrained himself. They still had a lot of details to work out before he'd feel comfortable doing something like that casually. After all, they weren't officially in any kind of relationship yet.

"I cannot believe you just kissed me in front of a church full of people," Shishido said, apparently deciding to try another tack. "Did you really just do that, or did I imagine it?"

"You know, I ought to let you think you dreamed it," Ohtori said, a flash of anger crossing his own eyes before he smiled again. "You hurt me pretty badly, making me think it was all a dream, you know."

"I..." Shishido hunched his shoulders in a defensive posture, and dropped his hold on Ohtori's arm at last. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I thought you'd be horrified when you realized I'd taken advantage of you like that. That it would ruin our friendship."

"Oh, Ryou." Unable to help himself, he reached out to touch his partner's cheek. He realized with some surprise that his hands were shaking in the aftermath, as the enormity of what he'd just done caught up with him. "You know, you'd have saved us both a lot of pain if you'd stayed that night like I asked you to. I was so ecstatic that it seemed like you really wanted me back, and weren't just indulging me."

"You..." Slowly, so slowly it hurt to watch, hope crept into Shishido's eyes. "It really wasn't just one last experiment?"

"I wanted one memory to carry me through," Ohtori whispered. He wasn't aware of moving, but somehow Shishido's face was closer than it had been. "Something to hold on to, one moment of real pleasure. I love you, Shishido Ryou. I've loved you since... since junior high, I think. Definitely since high school."

"Choutarou..." A calloused thumb brushed against Ohtori's cheek, and he was surprised to realize he was crying. The stress and hurt and even the joy of the last two days was catching up to him. "You big dumb idiot," Shishido murmured, his voice more gentle than Ohtori had ever heard it before. "You should have said something. You _know_ I'm a moron about emotions. How could you think I wouldn't love you back?"

"It's about damn _time_ you two figured it out!" A strident voice came from behind them, making them both jerk apart and turn to stare. Mukahi was grinning at them, and arrayed around him were the rest of their former Hyoutei teammates, from a sleepy Jirou to a smirking Atobe. The only one missing was Kabaji.

"Honestly, the way you two moon over each other all the time, you _both_ must be halfwits not to have figured it out before this," Hiyoshi added, as Ohtori gaped and Shishido stared at them.

"Aww, I dunno," Jirou put in his two cents, yawning from where he was draped over Oshitari's shoulder. "I was kinda looking forward to doing the whole 'I object' thing!"

"You'd just have slept through it," Mukahi snickered. "I was gonna do it, though. If you two were gonna wait _this_ long to figure it out, couldn't you have waited a few more minutes?"

Ohtori finally found his voice. "Did _everyone_ know but us?" he blurted out, shocked. Atobe had said earlier... and now they were talking about interrupting the wedding...

"Since the beginning of high school," Oshitari confirmed with a sly smile. "Though some of us realized it considerably earlier than that. You were rather obvious about it."

"And none of you bothered to _tell_ either of us?" Ohtori's voice cracked in distress. "I almost made the biggest mistake of my _life_ , and you were just going to let us both be miserable?"

"Hey, we were gonna object!" Mukahi protested with another grin. "There's a time and place for these things, you know."

"The two of you needed to figure it out for yourselves," Atobe cut into the teasing with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It would have been meaningless coming from us - you probably wouldn't have even believed us." Ohtori had to admit that was likely true. "Though if you hadn't shown signs of calling it off yesterday, I was considering arranging some sort of disaster that would postpone the ceremony and force you to take more time to consider it," Atobe admitted wryly, making Ohtori stare at him again.

"You're all a bunch of assholes," Shishido swore at them, but when Ohtori turned to him he found his partner was grinning. "C'mon, Choutarou, let's get out of here before they rub off on us." He grabbed Ohtori's hand and squeezed tight, and the younger man gave a shaky laugh.

"Yes, you'd best leave before they start going to the side exits to go around and come after you," Oshitari said placidly. "And Kabaji can only hold the main door for so long. I can hear them shouting in there."

Ohtori had to laugh at the image of their mountain of a friend fending off relatives and wedding guests, guarding the door like the entrance to a fort. "We'll find _appropriate_ ways to say thank you later," Shishido muttered, glaring at them all but without his usual heat.

Atobe stepped forward, and held out an envelope. "There's no reason for my wedding present to go to waste, since it's non-refundable," he said, smirking at them as Ohtori reached out and took it curiously. If Atobe had been planning to disrupt the wedding, why had he gotten an unrefundable present? "The limo outside will take you to the airport, and everything you'll need is in the suitcases in the trunk. I'm sure the two of you will enjoy a cruise much more than you would have with your blushing bride, Ohtori-kun."

Realizing that Atobe had, in fact, intended it to be the two of them who took what was undoubtedly a honeymoon cruise together, Ohtori flushed and shook his head in wry thanks. "Hey, looks like Ohtori's the blushing bride," Mukahi snickered. "I bet he's _totally_ the..."

Hiyoshi hit him on the back of the head, mercifully silencing him. "Some of us would rather not think about the mechanics, thank you," he muttered, and made shooing motions at Ohtori and Shishido. "Hurry up, or the horde in there really is going to catch you."

Laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of it all, Ohtori tugged at the hand Shishido was holding and they ran out the doors together. As they burst out into the sunlight, Ohtori squinted against the sudden glare and saw that there was indeed a limousine with the Atobe crest on the side, waiting with the rear door being held by the doorman.

"Bloody Atobe," Shishido said, but there was laughter and a hint of awe in his voice. "I can't believe him. I can't believe _you_!" He climbed into the car, and stared as Ohtori slid in after him and the door closed. "How did you know? You sure as hell didn't suspect anything yesterday. What made you realize?"

Having expected that question, Ohtori opened his other hand and showed him the button he'd pulled out of his pocket. "It's a good thing you were even more impatient than I was," he murmured as Shishido's eyes widened in realization. "Though I was planning to tell Meiko the truth anyway. I figured she'd probably call it all off once she realized I was gay and could never love her."

"I don't believe it," Shishido murmured, reaching out to brush his finger over the button. "Guess it's a good thing I was in too much of a panic to make sure I had all the damn buttons. Gods, Choutarou," he looked up at Ohtori, seeming stunned. "Is it really real?"

"Yes," Ohtori said, leaning forward and capturing his lips in a fierce kiss. "It's really real. And this time neither of us is denying it." He pulled back and grinned, holding up the button. "I was thinking of having it put on a chain, what do you think? It can be my new lucky necklace."

"I think I might just see if I can find one of the other ones after we get back, and make one of my own," Shishido murmured wryly. "I've never been much for necklaces, but then I've never owed a button this much before, either."

Ohtori laughed and they kissed again. Shishido's fingers wrapped around his and closed over the button, holding it securely in both their hands. Ohtori grinned into the kiss as he realized he couldn't imagine a better, more perfect wedding day than this.


	4. Omake!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If things had gone differently...

Ohtori stared straight ahead as the priest began the ceremony. His bowtie felt like it was strangling him; it was just like the rehearsal yesterday, only worse. A million times worse. Gods, he was really getting married! To a woman he could never love, with the only man he ever _would_ love standing by his side, oblivious.

He glanced at Meiko, and she looked radiantly happy. Well, at least one of them was going to look back on this day with fondness. It was her wedding, really... he just happened to be an important part of it. He hoped, for her sake, that this time he wasn't going to interrupt the vows by being sick. Especially since this time, with all the people between him and the exit, chances were he'd end up being sick on _her_.

The priest was still speaking, and somehow he wrenched his attention back to it. He didn't want to miss his lines again like he had yesterday. "If there is anyone present who knows of a reason why these two should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now, or forever hold your peace."

There was the usual nervous hush through the audience. Nobody ever _did_ make an objection outside the movies, of course, but there was always the fear than someone would try to make a joke of it and ruin the ceremony. Ohtori found himself praying someone _would_ object, would come up with a valid reason for him not to have to go through with this. Beside him he though he heard Shishido make a small noise, almost like he was in pain.

It seemed like his prayers had gone unheard as the priest drew breath to continue. Before he could say anything, however, a harsh whisper cut clearly across the silent air of the church. "Jirou! Wake UP stupid, you're gonna miss your chance!"

"Wha... uh?" Ohtori heard the familiar sound of the sleepy former singles player waking up. Disbelieving even Mukahi would play a prank like this - or that Jirou of all people would go along with it - Ohtori turned. Everyone else in the wedding party, hell, pretty much everyone in the church, turned to stare with him.

Jirou blinked back at them all hazily as Mukahi continued to try to prod him into awareness, and then realization flooded into his eyes. "OH! Is it time?" In one of his characteristic lightning changes, Jirou bounced to his feet, as energized as if Atobe had just offered to play a game with him. "I object!" he announced happily, grinning at a stunned Ohtori.

"Jirou?" Ohtori was utterly confused. What on earth could Jirou possibly have to object to? "Why are you..."

"Hey, it's not just him," Mukahi interjected. "He just wanted to be the first to say it, and he beat me at jan-ken-pon so I had to let him. I object too!"

"What the hell are you two playing at?" Shishido growled from beside him. Around the church people were murmuring in confusion and horror. Meiko was wringing her bouquet in her hands, twisting the stems until they were all bent out of shape.

"I must also add my objection," Oshitari drawled, his slow Kansai speech cutting clearly across the rising babble. Totally bewildered now, Ohtori stared as Hiyoshi and even Taki stood and added their objections. The babble among the wedding guests was almost a roar now, and the priest looked as stunned as Ohtori felt.

Finally the only former members of the Hyoutei team who hadn't added their objections were Shishido, Atobe and Kabaji. Ohtori turned to look at his groomsmen, and Atobe gave a dramatic sigh. "Well, this is somewhat more uncouth than what I had planned to interrupt the ceremony with, but since they're already doing it... I add my objection as well. Right, Kabaji?" And with the responding 'usu', the entire team had put in their two cents - except for Shishido.

"Don't look at me!" his partner exclaimed when Ohtori turned to him with wide eyes. Shishido looked no less confused than Ohtori. "I don't know what the fuck is going on!"

"Someone explain, please," the minister shouted over the babbling. "This is highly irregular. Quiet, everyone! I want to hear this explanation."

"Well, it's so _simple_ ," Jirou explained as the noise slowly died off. Apparently the priest wasn't the only one who wanted the explanation. Yawning, Jirou gestured at Ohtori. "He's in love with _him_..." his pointing finger trailed over to a gaping Shishido. "And he loves him back. So why is he marrying _her_?" The new gesture was clearly aimed at Meiko, who looked like she thought fainting a second time in two days might be a good option.

Into the stunned silence, Ohtori's and Shishido's voices jumbled together in frantic denials.

"Don't be _stupid_ Jirou, there's no way he could ever..."

"Jirou, you can't say things like that, he would never..."

"Oi, listen to yourselves!" Mukahi interrupted them with a smug smirk. " 'He couldn't', 'He would never'... not 'I don't'. I can't _believe_ in _all this time_ you two idiots never clued in!"

Slowly, almost painfully, hope expanded in Ohtori's chest. "Shi... Ryou?" he murmured, and the look Shishido gave him at the sound of his name almost made him believe. "Ryou, is it true? Do you... love me back?"

"Back?" Deep blue eyes stared back at him, and in them Ohtori thought he could see the same terrifying mix of emotions _he_ was feeling. "Love you _back_? Gods... are you an idiot? Of course I love you, I've loved you forever! How could I not? But I thought..."

Ohtori cut him off with a fierce kiss, hardly even hearing it as the wedding guests broke out in shouting. Shishido kissed him back just as passionately, and Ohtori was reminded of the kiss he'd thought he'd dreamed about asking for.

Behind and around them, over the yelling and shouting, the former Hyoutei members had started chanting. "Shishido! Ohtori! Shishido! Ohtori!" Even Atobe had joined in from next to them.

Pulling away enough to let him stare down into Shishido's eyes, Ohtori gave him a brilliant smile. "I love you, Shishido Ryou. In sickness and in health, till death do us part, and all the other vows I am _not_ saying today!"


End file.
